


Secret Spaces

by pickleplum



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Animagus, Animal Transformation, Bullying, Cute Kids, Description of Character in Pain, Dragons, Duelling, Family History, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Magic, Magic-Users, Parent-Child Relationship, Students, Trust, Wandlore, Were-Creatures, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:25:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9170689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/pseuds/pickleplum
Summary: Hogwarts student Chuck Hansen learns to trust and rely on his friends Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket as he adjusts to his life as a were-creature.





	1. Prelude: Fast Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gothams_Only_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Born To Make (Hogwarts A) History](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9158251) by [Gothams_Only_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck makes, loses, and rediscovers a friend during his first two years at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01 September 2014 - 09 December 2016  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... like Bruce thought 'if I have to deliver it in the snow, you need to collect it in the snow, lady' ...

**1 September 2014**

Charlie Hansen swaggers to the head of Hogwarts' Great Hall, perches on the stool and—

""Well, what do we have here?"" says the Sorting Hat. ""A Hansen of County Armagh, come back from halfway around the world?""

"Yea," drawls Charlie under his breath. "We're here to stay now."

""What a **wonderful** day! I thought I'd **never** Sort another of you! But into what House shall I Sort you, littlest Hansen, hmm?""

Charlie nearly sits on his hands to keep from fidgeting.

""You have all the cunning and ambition you'd need for Slytherin House, all the cleverness called for in Ravenclaw—and Hansens have **always** been Ravenclaws, except recently, you know—and the bravery and daring treasured by Gryffindor, and the ... well, Hufflepuff just isn't for you.""

"'course not," he sniffs.

""What to do, what to do with you~!""

"Gryffindor? Please?"

""Yes, yes! That's what we'll do! That's what you'll need to go farther than even **you** think you will~!""

Charlie's heart soars and he slides—

"" **RAVENCLAW!** ""

—freezes, ribs strangling his lungs. "But—"

The Hat's snatched off his head and Luna—Deputy Headmaster Pentecost nudges him off the stool, herds him toward the cheering crowd in blue and bronze.

Charlie throws a look over his shoulder at Dad, at the head table in his red and gold—

Dad, who's glowing at him and giving him a thumbs up.

—and grins so hard his face hurts, then lets the pool of Ravenclaws swallow him while he mentally composes a note to tell Mum the good news.

* * *

  

... so many flowers on the moly I'll need to buy more jars ...

**23 November 2014**

Something tugs Charlie's sleeve as he packs his things after Double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, so he turns, glare ready.

The devil's snare twitches sheepishly.

Charlie gives it a smile, whispers, "Later, buddy, I have to go for today."

The vine droops.

"I'll be back tomorrow, ye silly thing."

It perks up, flows back to nestle among its fellows.

He laughs a little, tucks his books under his arm.

Something taps his shoulder.

Charlie rolls his eyes—

""Excuse me, Hansen- _san_?""

—turns, glare ready again, grumbles at the cute Japanese girl with a Hufflepuff tie, "Yea? You come to make fun of the Aussie at the British school, too?"

She holds her ground, says, accent stiff but broad and London-flavoured, "I was wondering what you do to make the plants like you. I wish to be better at Herbology, but the plants ... they are fickle."

"Umm, yea, their attitude's something you gotta get used to. C'mere." He tows her to his favourite corner of Garden One, shielded by flitterbloom and some especially friendly devil's snare. "You're Mori, ay? The other one—'sides me—they say's a prodigy?"

"I suppose. I try not to listen to rumours." Mori hugs her books tighter to her chest. "Maybe there is a subject with which you need help? We could trade advice?"

Charlie rubs the back of his neck. "I ... alright. I kinda have trouble with Transfiguration. I could use a **little** help."

She nods and brightens, looks a bit less scared. "Hansen- _san_?"

"You can call me 'Charlie'." He smiles. "You're Mako, right?"

" _Hai_. I am Mako."

"'s'alright if I call you that?"

" _Hai_."

"So ... see you in the library this time next week?"

"Yes. Thank you, Han—Charlie."

"'welcome, Mako. See ye 'round."

She sparkles off.

Charlie shakes his head, gives the devil's snare a pat, and sets out for the dorm to collect his books for Potions.

* * *

  

... your dad gives you flack, show him the picture and ask him to tell you about the worst day of Taozi's life ...

**17 March 2015**

Charlie side-eyes Mako as they finish their notes in Double Charms.

She tucks her quill behind her ear; ink drips into her hair and down her cheek.

"Uh, Mako? You've got—" He plucks the quill with one hand, flicks his wand with the other—bollixes the motion and the Cleaning charm he wanted comes out as a Colour-changing one.

Mako shrieks as the colour sinks in and the hair turns bright blue and she runs out of the classroom.

Every eye turns to him.

"I'll go find out what's wrong," he announces as he marches out, back straight.

""You look alright, deary,"" soothes the hallway mirror. ""The blue isn't even very noticeable.""

Mako turns to Charlie. "Is that true?"

"Uh, it does kinda stand out but it looks really kick-ass?"

Her lower lip trembles.

"I'm sure Professor Flitwick or Professor Sevier can get it out if you really don't like—"

"I-I **do** like it." Her lips curl up into a bit of a smirk. "However, you need to work on your hand movements."

"Aw, Mako ...."

She holds out the blue strands, gives him a Look.

"Shit."

"Language."

"Sorry." Charlie takes a deep breath. "Sorry."

"Let's go back to The Den after class and look for the right spell."

"Cool, cool," says Charlie and he follows Mako back to their table, mentally dissecting what he'd done wrong.

* * *

 

... finished touching up the paint and I couldn't wait for you to get home to show you ...

**16 June 2015**

Charlie basks in the sun on the edge of the dock, legs swinging above the glassy surface of the Great Lake, enjoying the warm breeze playing in his hair.

"What are you thinking about?" asks Mako, relaxed next to him.

"You ever wonder why the horses from the stables don't come down here, even with all this grass?"

Mako pushes up straighter. "I thought it was because the groundskeeper doesn't want them to tear up his lawns."

"Well, probably," Charlie admits, "but it's more fun to think there're kelpies or an _each-uisge_ in the lake, yea? And a Master of the Horse, like, five hundred years ago was working too fast and herded the magical ponies up to the stables with the normal ones and, when the students came looking for him the next morning for the coach to Hogsmeade—" Puts some 'spooky' in his voice. "—all they found were frightened horses and his **liver**?"

"I don't think that's the case," laughs Mako.

"Doesn't change the fact mine's the better story."

She concedes with a tilt of her head.

"Wait! We should tell it to the First Years in autumn!" Charlie bounces. "They'll have to believe us! We're upperclassmen!"

"We shouldn't abuse others' trust like that."

"There's no harm in a scary story, 'specially since there really **are** dangerous things in the water here."

"But not kelpies or an _each-uisge_."

"As far as anyone's **told** us and you **know** they're not telling us everything."

Mako rolls her eyes, then looks out over the water.

Charlie tilts his head back and watches the clouds.

A hippogriff batters its way across the sky, calling in its ridiculous way.

"I always imagined them differently."

"Huh?"

"I thought animals as majestic as hippogriffs would make equally impressive sounds."

"Not squeak like an old hinge, ay?"

Mako hums an agreement.

The hippogriff disappears among the trees of the Forbidden Forest with a final squawk.

Charlie and Mako sigh.

A quiet minute drifts by.

"So ... are you looking forward to going home?" Charlie cringes. "I mean, to London?"

Mako gathers herself. "It will be good to see Sensei's family again and they will be happy have us back."

"What about Japan?"

"We plan to spend a few days with the Sumitanis—I've mentioned them?"

"Yea, the other wand-maker family."

"Yes, them. We'll spend at least a few days there, depending on how busy Uncle Kanzan is this year."

"Cool, cool." Charlie—

"What about you? Are you excited about returning to Armagh?"

"Kinda?" Charlie ruffles the hair on his nape. "I mean, the house is finally fixed and—I get to live in a real **house** , 'stead of a teeny-tiny flat for the first time **ever** , Mako, and I'm so—" Clears his throat. "—I'm pretty chuffed about it."

Mako giggles.

Charlie smiles back.

"Perhaps Sensei and I will be able to visit you and your family."

"That would be **awesome**!"

"I'll be sure to ask him about it."

"Please do! I'll talk to my mum and dad, too."

"Please do!"

Something splashes to the left of the dock.

"What was that?" Mako peers over the edge, searching.

"Kelpie," declares Charlie.

Mako straightens up, puts her hands on her hips, and gives him a Look.

* * *

  

... a pumpkin—an honest-to-goodness pumpkin—on the roof. I blame Bruce. ...

**1 September 2015**

Charlie plays with his food after the Sorting Ceremony, mostly soaking in how good it feels to have Mako pressed against his side after the forever-long summer break.

"Umm, 'scuse me, Miss Hufflepuff?" quavers Abbie, the newest member of the House. "I thought we were supposed to sit with our own Houses?"

"She's here," explains Charlie, "'cause she can answer the Eagle's riddles: she's an honourary Ravenclaw."

"He's accepted as a Hufflepuff and knows how to get into The Den, as well," adds Mako.

"Ah-alright. I, um, didn't know we could do that?"

"Not everything is strictly as you see or hear it."

"'D-don't judge a book by its cover.' R-right. 'm sorry," meeps Abbie.

"No harm, no foul," reassures Mako. "I'll see you tomorrow, Charlie?"

"Yea, 'course."

Mako smiles, glides to her feet and out with her fellow Badgers, falling into step with a tall, blond upperclassman.

Charlie sighs against his palm.

Abbie blinks at him. "Are you—"

"Don't worry about Mako and Charlie," laughs Sarah the Prefect, giving Abbie a squeeze around the shoulders. "They're a House of two."

* * *

 

... along some of the pictures of Yasinia Milla sent so you can see what you'll be getting into ...

**8 December 2015**

Charlie flies down the basement hallway. "Mako!"

She spins, squeals, "Charlie!"

He skids to a stop, throws his arms around her—taking care with the package in his hand—and wheezes, "Thank the stars I found you!"

"What? I don't—"

"Dad wants to leave, like, right now—I forgot—so I had to ditch him—" Steps away, takes a deep breath. "—so I could give you this." Offers the wrapped box.

"Exams aren't—"

"I just finished my last one. Took 'em early."

"What? Why?"

"We're going to the Continent to ski with some of Dad's friends. I, uh, never mentioned it." Charlie hangs his head, rubs the back of his neck. "Kinda forgot about it, honestly."

"How ... how do you **forget** a ski trip?!"

"I was **studying**!" Charlie makes a frustrated gesture. "Just open your present, alright?"

Mako gives him a most-displeased look, but flicks her wand in a perfect unwrapping charm.

The colourful paper unfolds itself , exposing the pink box.

She raises a dubious eyebrow.

"It's the only colour they had!"

Mako sniffs, opens the lid, paws through the tissue paper.

Charlie bounces on his toes.

"Blue ink—"

"Guaranteed to only stick to parchment or paper~!"

"—and hair dye?"

" **Any-colour** hair dye~!"

Mako stares at him, eyes kinda blank.

Charlie deflates, scuffs a foot. "I, um, still feel kinda bad about the ink thing? And wanted to make up for it a little?"

Her forehead wrinkles. "But I ...."

"'m sorry. Was a stupid idea—"

""Charlie?!""

He squeaks, cowers.

"Is that your father?"

"Yes?"

Mako rolls her eyes, grabs—

"Oi!"

—Charlie by the lapels, drags him to the entrance to the The Den—

"What're ye—"

—raps the barrel, stuffs—

"Easy!"

""Charles Victor Hansen, are you down here?!""

—him through the opening into the common room—

"Oof! What's the big—"

—tumbles through after him, rolls to her feet, straightens her uniform.

"What's the big idea manhandlin'—"

"I have to give you your present. Stay here," she says, and marches off toward the dorms.

"My **what**?"

No answer and Mako's out of sight.

Charlie scopes the scene.

Second Evie, Eleanor, and First Evie blink at him from one of the sofas near the fireplace.

"Uh, sorry." Charlie pushes to his feet, realigns his clothes. "'bout the yelling."

The girls blink some more.

"What? I sprout antlers 'r something?"

They drag their eyes off him, put their heads together, and start whispering.

Charlie rolls his eyes.

Mako reappears with a small, cloth-wrapped object, holds it out to Charlie.

"You didn't have—"

"I **wanted** to. I am sorry it's not so neatly wrapped as yours."

"It's pretty!"

Snickering from Eleanor and the Evies.

Mako must give them a Hell of a look, because they're suddenly very interested in their textbooks.

Charlie snorts, works loose the knot—the fabric falls away—grins. "Did you **carve** this?"

"Yes," she murmurs.

"This's so! cool! It's an inkwell, yea? And Devil's Snare?"

"Yes." Mako looks up through her eyelashes. "I also placed a charm on it so it will change colour as the ink level drops."

"Really?"

She chews her lip, nods.

"It's great! Thank you!"

"Really?"

Charlie huffs and hugs her tightly. "I love it."

"I love your gift, too."

"Really?" Charlie blushes when his voice cracks.

"Yes. I love it." Mako giggles. "Professor Sevier will be so **jealous**."

Charlie laughs. "Good." He eases away. "I should, uh, probably go before my dad breaks through the wall, yea?"

"I suppose you should," she sighs.

"Don't worry, we'll see each other again in a month."

"That seems such a long time."

"It'll be over 'fore you know it."

A chorus of sighs.

Mako and Charlie glare their hardest—

Eleanor and the Evies flee.

—turn to each other, and break up laughing.

* * *

  

... a little lost in Dublin with Debra and found an amazing gallery of graffiti—including this rude creature—in a back lane ...

**23 January 2016**  
(13 days 'til transformation)

Chuck creeps behind the curtain of devil's snare and flitterbloom in Garden One, leans against the greenhouse, heaves a relieved sigh.

Something tugs his sleeve.

"Not now, bud—"

Mako says, "Charlie?"

"Let go!" He yanks his arm away, but he sees the flash of scarred skin and cringes.

"What happened?"

"Yer the prodigy. You tell me," he sneers.

"Werewolf?" she whispers.

"I wish. Try were **dragon**."

Mako covers her mouth with her hand and her eyes get huge and wet.

"I don't need pity, so save it."

"I do not pity you. I want to help."

"Don't bother," growls Chuck, snapping a turn and striding toward the Old Man's— **his** rooms.

""Charlie, wait!""

"It's 'Chuck' now!" he hollers without slowing down or looking back.

* * *

  

... Mr Vince's lambs are the most adorable—and soft—things in the county. It's a good thing they are because I'll be sheep-sitting ...

**17 March 2016**  
(8 days after transformation)

On his way back from giving Bruce the thank-you note for Aunt Debra at the Owlery, Chuck—

""—Retriever- _san_ ,"" says Mako.

—dives into a statuary niche, holds his breath.

"" _whuff_ ,"" replies a dog.

""I wonder if you have been abandoned—""

Mako's voice and steps fade around a corner.

Chuck forces himself from a cringe, exhales, slides out of his hiding place, and slogs to the library.

"Good afternoon, Mister Hansen."

"Good afternoon, Madam Pince," sighs Chuck.

"For what will you be looking today?"

"Magical creatures—dragons—again," he mumbles.

"Let me see your hands."

Chuck stifles an eye roll, offers his fingers for inspection.

"No oily residue this time. You seem to have learned your lesson. You may go," Madam Pince sniffs, then turns her attention and her feather duster to a shelf of general reference books.

He shtumps to the Dragon Section, sparing a glance at the were-creature shelves for new titles (none, of course) on the way, before skimming the first ranges for anything he'd missed. He stamps down a happy flutter, pulls the recent addition ( _Intra-Flight Bonding in the Hebridean Black: New Evidence for Kindness in Dragons_ , by Murchadh MacIver) down, and flips it open.

With a grunt of approval for the introduction, he tucks the thin book under his arm, shuffles to **his** table in a quiet corner, plops onto a chair, and reads, finishing in plenty of time to reach the Great Hall for dinner.

* * *

 

... dittany's supposed to be hard to grow, but you'd never know it from our garden ...

**2 September 2016**  
(0 days after transformation)

Chuck's nose burns—cold metal, sharp herbs, exhaustion, decayed adrenaline.

He yanks—hisses at **pain** from every bone, holds very still except for his rapidly blinking eyelids.

He might whine.

Madam Pomfrey swims into view, greets, "Good afternoon—"

He **definitely** whines.

"—Mister Hansen. Now that you're awake, let's have a look at you." She flicks the sheet away.

Chuck looks down, might whimper.

Madam Pomfrey lifts the corner of one of the bloody bandages across Chuck's middle, peers at his skin, eases it back into place. "Everything's sealing as well as can be. We'll be able to release you to your father as soon as lectures are finished for the day."

Chuck says—makes a breathy sound.

"You wore out your voice yesterday." She floats the sheet down. "I've got a soothing draught ready for you. Let's get you sitting."

Chuck pushes—but his limbs are boiled noodles and he goes absolutely nowhere.

Madam Pomfrey gets him under the arms, straightens him up, and he definitely does. **not.** whimper. at the pull on his muscles.

"I'll be right back."

Chuck grunts, stares absently at the ceiling until footsteps crisp up to his bedside.

"Here you go. Drink up, but mind you don't burn your tongue."

He curls up around the mug of—queries.

Madam Pomfrey smiles. "There's no better cure in this world than chocolate."

Chuck snorts into the rich, sweet steam.

"I'll leave you to it. Ring the bell if you need me."

Chuck acknowledges, sips.

As he nears the bottom of the mug, shuffling feet.

"Oh my heaven—"

Chuck startles.

"—you're not dead!" squeaks Abbie and immediately claps her hands over her mouth.

'No, really,' grumps Chuck's eyebrow.

"A-all the stories at the feast said you'd **died** over the summer and that's why you weren't there!"

"Nope," he croaks.

"But why're you—"

"Get lost," he snarls.

Abbie meeps and flees.

Chuck swallows a last mouthful, sets the cup aside, slumps against his pillows.

* * *

  

... because Taaffe apparently gives the best tummy rubs ...

**25 October 2016**  
(5 days 'til transformation)

"What're you reading" asks the Old Man.

Chuck, huddled in a cocoon of quilts on his armchair, replies, "Dragon behaviour stuff."

Old Man flops into his favourite spot. "Finding anything useful?"

Chuck sighs, digs himself out a bit, sets his book aside. "This bloke did a study where orphan chicks stopped self-harming when they got nest-buddies, even if they weren't dragons."

"Did they eat their 'friends'?"

"Nope. Acted like they were funny-looking dragons."

"Huh. Doesn't sound very dragon-y to me."

"Maybe it's because they were still little and vulnerable when he tried it."

"Who's the dragonologist?"

"Murchadh MacIver."

"Ah. That explains it."

"Wha?"

"The MacIvers are liars—or exaggerators. They've been saying they can do impossible things with dragons forever."

"How do **you** know they're impossible?" challenges Chuck.

"No one can replicate their results."

Chuck grumbles over his disappointment.

"Even if they **aren't** lying about dragons, **were** dragons are different, yea?" The Old Man hangs his head, murmurs, "Sorry."

"What if this's right, though, and there's a way to keep m—It from ripping me up?"

"That's why we took the window out of the Shack, remember? Giving you space to wear yourself out so you don't."

"Yea, but I really think there's something to the idea of a flight." Rubs the back of his neck. "It **feels** right, ye know?"

"Chuck ... something feeling right doesn't mean it **is** right. Instinct'll only get you so far."

"That's rich advice from a **Gryffindor**."

The Old Man—

The kettle whistles.

—hauls himself upright and over to the fire.

Chuck grabs the book, opens to his last page—

"Want a cup?"

"Nah."

Crockery rattles.

—digs back into _How to Speak Dragonese: Understanding Dragon Body Language_.

* * *

 

... found a nest in the tree by the cowshed full of baby meadow pipits—at least I **think** ...

**9 December 2016**  
(10 days after transformation)

Chuck plods out of Charms, trying to get his sluggish brain into Herbology mode.

"Hansen- _san_ —"

He startles—

"—may we talk?" says Mako.

—heads for the door, nearly bounces off a blond bloke with crossed arms, a frown, a Hufflepuff tie, and a prefect's pin.

"Why don't you and Mako have a chat?" he says.

"Why should—" Chuck huffs, grumps, "Fine. Ye get five minutes from when we get to Garden One." He stomps off.

Mako and her new friend follow through the snow to Chuck's sanctum behind the devil's snare.

He props himself against the greenhouse, brows lowered, orders, "Make it snappy."

"I know you've been doing it alone," says Mako quietly. "I have made good use of our time apart and can help you, like a good friend should."

Chuck blinks away the start of tears, rasps, "We're still friends?" Rubs his eyes. "Why would you even bo—"

"Chuck Hansen, just because you've been avoiding me, it doesn't mean we're no longer friends," she scolds, wiping angrily at tears of her own, and sidling closer. She whispers in his ear, "I've become an Animagus so I can stay with you throughout."

Chuck's hugging her before he can think it through, face buried in her shoulder.

She squeezes back.

"Ye mean it? You'll be there?"

"I will." She pulls away a little to press her forehead to his. "I'll also bring back-up."

"You've talked to my old man?"

"No, I haven't."

The Hufflepuff prefect clears his throat.

"What?"

"I'm the back-up." He bobs his head, says in a weird mix of Geordie and American, "Raleigh Becket, same skills as her and sworn to secrecy."

Chuck blinks—looms on Mako, spits, "You told someone?! Do you have **any** idea what could—"

Becket gets between them, shoves Chuck against the greenhouse wall.

"Le'go 'a me, ye—"

"She didn't tell me; I figured it out on my own."

"You—" Chuck's blood turns arctic, but he still manages to sneer, "How'd ye manage that?"

"I've read that entire section of the library? And all the clues fit?"

There are icebergs in Chuck's arteries and his heart's stuttering.

"Does anyone else ...?"

"Not that I know of and **lots** of people talk to me," says Becket.

"Most of the rumours I've heard involve exotic illnesses," adds Mako.

Chuck laughs weakly, slides out of Becket's grip on his jacket, oozes to the ground—

"Are you—"

"What's—"

—lets his head fall back so he can see the blue sky.

Mako swims into view, says, voice squeaky-worried, "Chuck, what's happening?"

"Havin' a metaphorical heart attack here."

"But this is all good news?"

"Mako ... you don't—it's not— **no** **one** **can** **know**. 's bad enough I told you, but Becket figuring it out? That's really, **really** bad."

"I don't understand."

Chuck shakes his head.

"Explain it to me, please."

"It's—" He takes a deep, shaky breath. "When I got back, it's what the Old Man and I had to promise so I **could** come back: no special treatment, no more dorm living, **no** **one** finds out." Locks their eyes. "People hear what's happening and they'll throw me out—the Old Man, too, probably."

Mako puts her shoulders back. "Then no one else will know."

"What're you gonna do about Becket? Use a memory charm on him?"

"He can keep a secret." She smiles, a bit wicked. "Besides, you know one of his."

Chuck ... grins.

"So ... uh, since it looks like you're not gonna kill me," says Becket, "how 'bout we go into Hogsmeade and I buy us all drinks so we can get to know each other better?"

"I, uh ...." Chuck gets his wits sorted, doesn't **quite** get his eyes off Mako and onto Becket. "How 'bout hot cocoa from the kitchens instead?"

"How 'bout we split the difference? I've got some bottled butterbeer in my room we can share—"

Mako says, "We'll meet you in the Tracery Hall."

Becket grins like a loon and takes off running.

"Mite enthusiastic for a prefect, ain't he?"

Mako tugs Chuck upright. "Let's go."

He drags his feet as Mako pulls him along by the hand. "What's the rush? Mister Sunshine can entertain himself for a bit."

She keeps towing, even picks up speed. "It's rude to keep someone waiting."

"Mako, seriously. Slow down." Pulls back. "Please."

She relents, cuts their pace to an almost leisurely stroll.

"Thanks," Chuck murmurs.

"You're welcome."

They make it to the castle and Mako side-eyes him.

"What?"

"How is your health?"

"I'm not tired, if that's what you mean. Just don't feel like hurrying."

"I don't think I've ever seen you **not** in a rush."

"I just—" He stops walking, takes a deep breath. "I'm just happy to have you back."

"I never left."

"Well, I—" Huffs. "I—" Glomps Mako, lets out a shuddery exhale. "Thanks. For everything."

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long-eared owl image cropped from a photo by [Peyman Zehtab Fard](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peymanz/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peymanz/8285079660/).
> 
> Peganum harmala image cropped from a photo by [José María Escolano](https://www.flickr.com/photos/valdelobos/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/valdelobos/4441994350/).
> 
> Dog image cropped from a photo by [psyberartist](https://www.flickr.com/photos/psyberartist/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/psyberartist/3541502514/).
> 
> Thatched cottage photo by [Ulster Architectural Heritage Society](https://www.flickr.com/photos/uahs/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/uahs/6883973032/in/album-72157629703146779/); color manipulation by pickleplum.
> 
> Pumpkin photo by [Niel Bornstein](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nbornstein/) [[CC BY-NC 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nbornstein/47922131/).
> 
> Yasinia, Ukraine, bridge image cropped from a photo by [Knight Light](https://www.flickr.com/photos/hermesmdm/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/hermesmdm/13622919274/).
> 
> Dragon graffiti photo by [lusciousblopster](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lusciousblopster/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lusciousblopster/5873382248/in/photostream/).
> 
> Lamb image cropped from a photo by [Alasdair Mckenzie](https://www.flickr.com/photos/alasdairjmckenzie/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/alasdairjmckenzie/7146702831/).
> 
> Dittany image cropped from a photo by [Averater](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Averater) [[CC BY 4.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en) ] via [Wikimedia Commons](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Origanum_dictamnus_GotBot_2015_001.jpg).
> 
> Pony and cat image cropped from a photo by [Nikki](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nikkis_pikkis/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nikkis_pikkis/537408925/in/album-72157600331288980/).
> 
> Meadow pipits image cropped from a photo by [color line](https://www.flickr.com/photos/sunrise/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/sunrise/161201691/).
> 
> A date-by-date match for Gothams' original tale written from Chuck's POV--with a couple of new scenes for spice. I couldn't leave well enough alone. XD


	2. New Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako and Raleigh stay with Chuck through his awful transformation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 29 December 2016  
> (0 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... snowed so much tonight! Can you believe it?! It was a magical time ...

The new moon that December arrives on the heels of a blizzard, the sky clearing into a velvet blanket of harsh stars draped over hip-deep snow.

Raleigh bulls a path to the Whomping Willow; Chuck trudges behind him; Mako brings up the rear, filling in their tracks.

Chuck grabs a long stick, pokes a knot—

The Willow creaks to a stop.

—drops it, and grumps, "Well, c'mon," and disappears into a hole in the trunk.

Raleigh and Mako exchange a look and follow him along a cramped tunnel.

The Shack is less frightening and more sad than Mako expected. Falling-down, dusty, and cold, with a coppery smell mingling with the steely bite of the snow.

"Time?"

Raleigh pushes up his sleeve, announces, "Ten 'til seven."

Chuck grunts, peels off his coat, folds it, tucks it into a metal box next to the fireplace.

"Why are you—"

"I'm **bigger** , yea? It'll all get shredded if I keep it on." He pulls off his jumper, dumps it in the box, works on his shirt buttons, already shivering.

"Can't you just get new clothes?" asks Raleigh.

"I dunno how rich your folks are, but my old man doesn't make enough teaching here for that."

Raleigh cringes.

Chuck shrugs out of his undershirt.

His arms and back and sides are covered with webs of narrow scars.

Mako swallows tears, bites her lip.

Raleigh squeaks, "Is that what—"

"I tore myself up before we had the bright idea of taking out the window so I could fly myself tired."

"But it's not very far to Hogsmeade? And people?"

"Can't fly very far. Yet."

Mako covers her eyes as Chuck turns away, undoes his belt and slides off his trousers.

""You must be **freezing**.""

Mako peeks out through her fingers.

Chuck, naked and very, very pale, shrugs and sits down on his folded t-shirt on the floor with his back to them.

"Shouldn't you at least have a blanket?"

"I'll just wreck it, like I wreck everything." Curls more tightly around himself, shivers hard, mumbles, "He should've just let me die."

"Don't say that, please." Mako reaches—

"Get away from me," snarls Chuck. " **Now.** "

She backs to Raleigh, against the far wall.

Raleigh laces their fingers, squeezes her hand.

"Time?"

"One minute."

"You probably don't want to watch this bit," rasps Chuck. "And if ye wanna run, this's your last chance."

"We're staying," declares Mako.

Chuck shudders, the skin across his shoulders twitching and turning grey, croaks, "Then I'm really sorry about this."

A sound like a breaking branch—

Chuck **screams**.

Mako covers her ears, buries her face in Raleigh's chest.

Under the shrieks, snapping and thrashing and whimpers.

Raleigh holds her close, cradling her head.

The screaming stops—still echoes in Mako's head—replaced by scrabbling and dull thuds.

"Change, Mako," hisses Raleigh.

She does, fur growing, paws forming, teeth stretching, then presses close to Raleigh's golden side.

The dragon staggers to face them, shakes its sharp head, spines rattling, and rumbles from deep in its throat.

A Ukrainian Ironbelly, a small one, but instead of being red, its— **Chuck's** eyes are bright blue—the same colour as his human ones—the only hint he isn't a typical dragon.

It— **he** cocks his head, peers at them.

Raleigh looks away, down and to the right, yawns.

Mako stares at the ground, licks her lips with her long tongue.

Chuck exhales a gust, ruffling her fur, and throws himself out the glassless picture window, claws gouging tracks in the floor.

Raleigh and Mako scramble after him.

Barely six strides later, Chuck hauls himself into the air on enormous leather wings, silver scales twinkling in the starlight.

Mako and Raleigh charge through the snow toward the Forbidden Forest in his shadow, picking up speed once they reach the clear ground between the trees.

They run and run and run, icy air burning their lungs and cold ground stinging their paws.

And then they lose sight of Chuck.

They skid to a stop.

Mako looks to Raleigh, whines softly.

He _whuff_ s reassurance.

A tremendous crash sends the earth jumping under their paws.

They fly toward it, into a small clearing.

Chuck lies in the center, sides heaving and eyes half-closed.

Mako creeps closer.

A blue eye tracks her.

Closer ....

Chuck glances away, shifting her to his peripheral vision.

Mako stretches, licks his nose.

Chuck rumbles—quietly—and rubs his cheek against hers.

Mako whuffles, lies down in the curve of his neck.

Raleigh pads over, settles in next to her, using a scaly foreleg as a pillow.

Chuck huffs, nudges Mako closer to Raleigh with his snout, then curls his neck around them both.

The warmth of his breath and body keeps them cozy as they sleep until sunrise, even as flurries drift down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Nico Hogg](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nicohogg/) [[CC BY-NC 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nicohogg/8400576874/).
> 
> UPDATE: I redid a few bits in the first five chapters after realizing my memory for how things work in Rowling's world and where the various settings are in relation to each other was _really_ faulty. I used the [Harry Potter wiki](http://harrypotter.wikia.com) to do most of the research.


	3. Herd Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raleigh interrupts Chuck's attempt at making new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23 January 2017  
> (6 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... looked over my shoulder and there was Taaffe. Again. That's three days in a row! He thinks he's a dog ...

Raleigh raps his way into The Den and his eye is immediately drawn to Mako, scowling at a parchment and textbook open on the common room table. He strolls over, skims Mako's neat figures, says, "Arithmancy giving you problems?"

"The numbers are misbehaving. I think I'll need to ask Professor Gottlieb for help."

"That must be some really tough stuff to be throwing **you** off."

Mako ducks her head.

Raleigh smiles to himself at the pretty pink blush spreading along her cheekbones.

"Did you want my help with something?"

Raleigh startles, feels **himself** blush. "Well, um, have you seen Chuck today?"

"Did we—"

"Six more days," he reassures. "He's probably a little under the weather, but he wasn't at lunch and he normally would be, right?"

Mako shakes her head, eyes growing concerned.

"I'm gonna go look for him, if you want to come along."

"Sensei and I were taking a trip into Hogsmeade, but I can—"

"It's okay!" Raleigh makes a calming gesture. "I'm sure it's nothing serious." Grins. "'sides, I'll take Plasma with me."

Mako relaxes, smiles back.

"I'll tell Chuck to visit you when I track him down."

"Thank you for that, Raleigh."

"Say 'hi' to your _sensei_ for me."

"I will. Good luck with the search."

"Thanks, Mako." Raleigh waves, heads out to the stables.

He checks the space for eavesdroppers, turns his attention inward.

His nose grows, his arms and legs shorten and bend, he sprouts a happily wagging tail. He gives himself a good shake, trots out to the lawn, nose to the ground, then zigzags across it until he finds the right combination: amber soap, ink, Venomous Tentacula pollen.

An odd addition, though: raw beef.

Raleigh double-checks and, yep, it's still meat, but it's also **definitely** Chuck, so he resumes sniffing and wagging and tracking all the way to a grassy dip between the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the curtain wall.

Chuck sits on a blanket facing the Forest, his back to him, tosses something into the center of the little field.

Raleigh stretches himself into his human shape, shakes his clothes into place.

Chuck flicks his arm again.

Raleigh sidles into Chuck's peripheral vision, calls his name.

"Keep your voice down, ay?"

"What're you doing?"

"Trying to make friends."

Raleigh looks around. "With what?"

"You don't see 'em," sighs Chuck.

"See what?"

"Thestrals." Chuck holds out a bit of meat on his flattened palm.

It disappears, reappears a few inches above Chuck's hand, then disappears again, for good this time.

"There's a whole herd of 'em here."

Raleigh rubs the back of his head. "Can I join you?" squeezes past the lump in his throat.

"If you want. Just move slow so you don't scare 'em and undo all my work."

Raleigh creeps over, folds himself down next to Chuck.

Another beef bit vanishes from Chuck's hand.

A soft, snorty noise; a puff of air ruffles Raleigh's hair.

"She's checking you out."

"She's not gonna bite me, right?"

"Not unless you hit her or yell. Probably."

"Great. I'll try not to hit the invisible creature."

Chuck snorts.

"So ... does anyone know you're out here?"

"Left a note for my old man, so he probably does."

Raleigh sighs.

Two more thestrals (probably) accept treats.

"How many of them are there?"

"Eight." Chuck points to spots around the field. "A big male, a smaller male, four good-sized females, a little girl, and a baby boy who **won't stop stealing food**." Pushes something with quite a bit of force. "Shove off, you, 'fore you get fat."

A breathy snort.

Chuck shifts the remaining treats to between himself and Raleigh.

Disappointed huff.

"Get used to it, Handsome."

Chuck's head's forced back; he squawks, scrubs at the side of his head with his sleeve.

Another, louder snort, then rustling which quickly fades.

Raleigh smothers a laugh in his hand.

Chuck mutters under his breath, fishes among folds of waxed paper for more meat.

"I'm wondering: why thestrals?"

"Was thinking they might get to recognize me well enough and we could hunt together those nights."

"You haven't hunted since me and Mako joined you."

"Haven't at all yet, but I'm getting hungrier every month. Figure it's a only matter of time before I kill something."

Raleigh shudders.

"Rather learn to take birds with these guys than start chasing people—" Side-eyes. "—or dogs."

"I can get behind that idea," laughs Raleigh weakly.

Chuck's hand jerks awkwardly and he presses against something invisible with his other. "Fer Pete's sake, girl, gimme a moment. You don't want to eat paper, do ye?"

The strip's snatched from his fingers.

"Oi. Mind your teeth," he scolds.

Shuffling and rustling.

Chuck sniffs, studies his hand, grumbles, "Cheeky thing."

"She break the skin?"

"Nah, just a bruise." He offers another slice of beef to the air.

There's a quiet whuffle and the meat vanishes.

Chuck wipes his palm on his trousers, mumbles, "They drool something awful." Addresses the empty air, "That's all I brought, so it's no use begging for more."

Something nudges Raleigh's shoulder.

"Uh, hi?"

"He doesn't have any, either."

A huff, something bumps Chuck.

He reaches up, cups one hand, strokes the air in front of his face with long, slow, gentle motions.

Raleigh closes his eyes, leans back on his braced arms, listens to the breeze in the bare trees, the thestral's breathing and the rustling of their leathery wings.

Beside him, Chuck shifts, murmurs, "They're going."

Raleigh straightens, opens his eyes on the same empty field, but the scene is now a bit quieter. He takes a deep breath, says, "Chuck ... why can you see them?"

He shrugs. "Had a goldfish die before I started here."

"I don't think that's—"

"Leave it, Becket," growls Chuck.

"Okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"I won't—" Chuck takes a deep, shaky breath. "—but thanks."

"No problems. We Hufflepuffs love to help."

Chuck rolls his eyes. "Bloody busybody badgers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Aislinn Ritchie](https://www.flickr.com/photos/richteabiscuit/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/richteabiscuit/445215019/)
> 
> .
> 
> I _thought_ I was done with this AU, but I guess I'm not. The image of Chuck befriending thestrals was just too appealing for me to resist.


	4. Latest Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over breakfast, Chuck, Mako, and Raleigh hear a disturbing rumour from their schoolmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 27 February 2017  
> (1 day after transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

 

... definitely saw the moon, but no magical creatures. I'm not sure if I should be happy ...

Chuck wobbles down beside Mako at the Hufflepuff table, pushes the place setting out of the way, folds his arms, and rests his head on them.

From across the table, Raleigh asks, "Want me to put together a plate for you, Chuck?"

""Mmro.""

Mako's chest tightens and she drapes her arm across Chuck's back—

He shivers.

—leans close, whispers in his ear, "If you're this unwell, you should be home resting."

""Can't,"" rasps Chuck. ""History of Magic exam. No makeups.""

"I'm sure Professor—"

""No special treatment. I can do this.""

"Of course you can, but please promise me you'll go to sleep right afterward."

Chuck grunts agreement.

Mako straightens, takes back her arm, spoons marmalade onto her toast.

"Is he ...?"

"He didn't sleep well last night."

"Studying for that exam you guys have?"

Mako hums around a mouthful of toast.

Chuck, though, scoffs.

"It's okay to admit you have to actually **study** , Chuck," teases Raleigh.

Chuck drags his head up, glowers at him.

Raleigh applies Puppy Dog Eyes™.

Chuck keeps glaring.

"You know he's immune to those, Raleigh."

He laughs, "I'm hoping I can eventually wear down his resistance."

Chuck sniffs.

"Hey, guys," greets First Evie, sliding in next to Raleigh. "Have you heard the rumour?"

"The one about Headmaster Pentecost's secret tattoo?"

" **I** hear it howls at the moon," puts in Lewis.

"Nah, that's old news," dismisses Riley. He checks over his shoulder, says, "There's a **dragon** in the Forbidden Forest now."

Chuck pales, shudders.

"You scared of **dragons** , Hansen? I thought it was spiders that freaked you out," sneers Lydia.

"What kinda idiot **isn't** afraid of dragons?" Chuck snarls back. "Those things'll kill you soon as **look** at you."

"Yea? How do **you** know so much?"

"'coz I do my Magical Creatures homework, maybe?"

Lydia sniffs.

"The dragon's just a story," says Mako. "The staff wouldn't let one settle so close to the school."

"'sides, Professor Geiszler would be squeeing about it in class if there was," points out Second Evie.

"And trying to catch it, too."

Murmurs of agreement around the table.

"It's real," whispers Eleanor. "I saw it."

Lydia snaps, "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I saw it flying over the lake from the Astronomy tower on Saturday night."

Chuck greens.

Mako presses her knee to his under the table.

"Then what does it look like?"

"It's a baby Ironbelly and it **sparkled**." She sighs wistfully. "It was beautiful."

"You're making it up," accuses Lewis.

"I'm not! There really is a dragon!"

"I think she's right," says Riley. "I mean, if there isn't a dragon, why're those Russian dragonologists coming next month?"

No one has an answer for that and Chuck turns a minty colour.

"I bet the Russians are gonna trap it and take it back to Ukraine where it belongs."

Chuck pushes away from the table.

"Where're you going, Hansen?"

"Need t'get my books before class," he mumbles.

"I'll come with you," offers Mako.

Chuck shrugs, plods off.

Mako scurries after him, catches up just outside the Great Hall's doors, whispers, "Did you know about the dragonologists?"

He shakes his head.

"What will you do?"

He pulls his shoulders up around his ears. "Don't really have a choice about that, do I? Just have to hope I'm faster an' smarter than them." Sighs. "Too bad they don't teach Ukrainian—or Russian—here."

"I think Professor Gottlieb knows Russian?"

Chuck laughs, some of the tension flowing out of his posture. "I'll talk to him about it after the exam."

"Some sleep, too."

"That, too," concedes Chuck.

Mako smiles, heart lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Will Johnson](https://www.flickr.com/photos/ferrousfemur/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/ferrousfemur/2386336359/).
> 
> Dear lord, is this thing developing an actual _plot_? I never meant for this to happen!


	5. The Half-bloods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two fellow students learn how to get under Chuck's skin at the cost of a bit of their dignity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24 Mar 2017  
> (5 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... talking an aggressive frost here. I've seen needles duller than this ...

Mako says, "You've almost got it, but it's pronounced ' _ **Lap** ifors_'."

Chuck glowers at the furry teapot on the blanket in front of them, mutters, "That's what I said."

"The stress goes on the first syllable."

He grumbles, " _Reparifarge_."

The crockery is white with delicate blue flowers again.

Overhead, a breeze whispers among the leaves of the holly tree.

Chuck sighs into his palm.

"You can almost cast the counter-spell wandless?" Mako says by way of encouragement.

"'cause I suck at, you know, the important bit." Points his wand at the teapot. " _Lapifors_."

It sprouts floppy white ears.

Chuck growls, " _Reparifarge_."

From behind them, a giggle, then "" _Draconifors_.""

The teapot grows golden scales and hisses at Chuck, lunges for his hand.

" _Finite_!" yelps Mako.

The former dragon wobbles over onto its porcelain side and lies still.

Chuck shoves to his feet, turns, eyes fiery.

"We thought we'd spice up your lesson a little," snickers So-Yi Pang.

Beside Chuck, Mako tenses.

"Dragons are **so** much cooler than silly little fluffy bunnies," adds Yuna An.

"Don't you you two have some Quaffles to catch with your faces?" snarls Chuck.

"As if we'd bother with Quidditch."

"That's too bad. A couple of shots to the head'd probably improve your looks."

"The temper must come with the hair," says Yuna to So-Yi.

"Mmhm. And probably gets his magical talent from his mum."

Chuck grinds his teeth, tightens his grip on his wand.

Mako steps in front of him, wand up. "Stop. Now."

So-Yi crosses her arms, sneers, "That's how it is, Half-breed? You need a Pure-blood to protect you?"

Yuna adds, "That's so **sad**."

"I don't need **anyone** 's help," snaps Chuck, pushing Mako out of the way. "You asked for this."

"Give it your—"

" _Flipendo_!"

Yuna flies back; So-Yi draws her wand—

" _Impedimenta_!"

—freezes; Yuna scrambles to her feet, wand out—

" _Silencio_!"

—opens and closes her mouth soundlessly; So-Yi jabs with her wand—

Chuck hisses, flings a " _Rictusempra_!".

—collapses, clutching her sides and laughing hysterically; Yuna stomps up, arm raised—

" _Petrificus totalus_!"

—goes rigid and pales, tips forward—

Another Slytherin grabs her before she face-plants and eases her to the ground.

"Those real enough spells for ye?" crows Chuck.

The gathered crowd all take a step back and—

Professor Gottlieb barks, " _Finite_! And—"

Chuck whirls to face him.

"—all of you stay **exactly** where you are."

So-Yi gasps for breath; Yuna heaves herself upright.

"Now," says Professor Gottlieb, planting his staff and looking **directly** at Chuck, "Who cast first?"

Chuck puts his shoulders back, tilts his chin. "I did, sir."

"Very well, then. Ten points from Ravenclaw."

"But, Professor—"

"'But' nothing, Miss Mori."

Mako hangs her head.

"Mister Hansen, follow me. The rest of you go back about your business."

Chuck plods after the professor back to the castle and does. not. itch the spot So-Yi's spell hit.

Professor Gottlieb bows him into his office, orders, "Sit down."

Chuck slouches into a surprisingly comfy chair, checks over his shoulder.

The professor bustles around in a niche mostly hidden by a bookcase.

He aims his wand at his arm, commands, " _Episkey_."

The blistery rash shrinks, then vanishes, though the healed skin looks rather pink.

Professor Gottlieb says, "Miss Pang—"

Chuck jumps.

"— **did** manage to land a hex on you after all."

"It was just a Stinging Jinx," huffs Chuck.

The professor clatters a small tea tray down on a side table.

"Lemon or sugar?"

"Neither, thanks."

Professor Gottlieb offers a cup.

"Thank you."

"Now, what was that all about, Mister Hansen?" asks Professor Gottlieb, lowering himself into a puffy chair.

Chuck sulks.

"Spit it out."

He grumps, "An and Pang said I couldn't cast **real** spells because I'm a half-blood."

"Is it true?"

"Is **what** true?"

"That you can't cast spells."

" **No** , and I showed them I could."

"You certainly did. Your Silencing Charm was particularly impressive."

Chuck preens a bit. "Thank you, sir."

"What about the other part?"

Chuck deflates, tells his tea, "Mum was a Muggle, yea, so I guess that's true, too."

"There's no shame in having only one magical parent."

"Headmaster Snape, Headmaster McGonagall, I know, I know ...."

"There are others, of course."

"I know that, too."

"Others, like myself."

"You—what?"

Professor Gottlieb takes a rather dainty sip. "My father is a wizard and my mother a Veela. I suppose that makes me a half-blood, as well."

Chuck blinks, trying to process this information.

"Let me answer the basic questions. Yes, I am able to change form. My wings are the same colour as my hair with white spots. No, I cannot charm people with dance; in fact, I had two metaphorical left feet even before my injury. No, I cannot throw fireballs from my hands." Smiles mischievously, "At least, I haven't done so yet."

Chuck grins.

They drink tea in friendly quiet.

"You should consider joining the Duelling Club," says Professor Gottlieb. "Ravenclaw could use someone of your skill rather badly."

Chuck raises an eyebrow.

"They've been unable to score a **single** point against Slytherin all term." His eyes gleam. "Seeing as you **humiliated** two of their best unaided, I **suspect** you'd be able to reverse this unfortunate trend." Takes another mouthful, swallows, adds quietly, "My house would much appreciate any help Ravenclaw can offer: the opponent of my opponent is my ally and all that."

"I, umm—" Chuck rubs the back of his neck. "I'll think about it."

"Please do, Mister Hansen."

"I should probably—" He pushes—

"Finish your tea. I'll provide you an excuse for tardiness for Professor Lightcap."

Chuck sits back against the cushions, cradles his cup. "Thank you, Professor."

"My pleasure, Mister Hansen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Peter](https://www.flickr.com/photos/pe_ma/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/pe_ma/5327503037/).
> 
> Time to spread the blame a little, as it's MoiraColleen's suggestion of a part-Veela Hermann that inspired this chapter.
> 
> Chuck's attack spells, in order, are the [Knockback Jinx](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Knockback_Jinx), [Impediment Jinx](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Impediment_Jinx), [Silencing Charm](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Silencing_Charm), [Tickling Charm](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Tickling_Charm), and [Full Body-Bind Curse](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Full_Body-Bind_Curse).


	6. The Dragonologists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck meets a pair of dragon experts determined to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28 March 2017  
> (0 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... monkshood's doing its level best to take over the entire back garden, but I have not yet begun to fight ...

Chuck drags himself down the stairs from his bedroom, clinging fiercely to the railing to keep himself from falling. He stops on the landing to catch his breath.

""Chuck? That you?"" calls the Old Man.

"Yea!"

""Ye decent?""

Chuck looks down at his furry slippers, flannel pajamas, two jumpers, and two housecoats, hollers, "Yea?"

""Some folks're here to meet you.""

He takes a deep breath, plods into the front room.

Two **enormous** blonds—half-giants, at **least** —sit side-by-side on the sofa. Their eyes immediately lock on Chuck's.

He stumbles back a step.

"Chuck," says the Old Man, "these're old friends of mine, Aleksandra and Aleksei Kaidanovsky, from Russia."

"Ukraine," rumbles the man.

"Sasha and Sasha, please," purrs the woman.

Chuck bobs his head, staggers over to his chair and collapses. "The dragonologists, right?"

"We are," replies Taller Sasha.

"Our specialty is Ironbellies." Tall Sasha sips tea. "Your father has asked for us to examine your case."

Chuck's blood runs cold; his stomach goes funny.

Taller Sasha reassures, "Sashas will not tell anyone."

"Sashas will also not hurt you," adds Tall Sasha.

Chuck's stomach is not reassured.

"Sashas will find counter-spell or -potion for Charles."

Chuck's heart jumps into his throat, so he squeaks, "You want to cure me?"

"That would be best outcome—"

"—but Sashas will start with Dragonsbane Potion."

"Like Wolfsbane, but for dragons?"

"Charles is exactly right." Tall Sasha grins with a **lot** of very white teeth. "No one has ever controlled were-dragons, even a tiny bit. Sashas will be first."

Taller Sasha grunts confirmation.

"Do you think you can do it?" croaks Chuck.

Tall Sasha crooks an eyebrow. "You doubt Sashas?"

"Uh, no? But, it's never been done."

"Because Sashas have not tried before."

"Drakanthrophy is very rare condition: only sixteen cases documented."

"Sashas have studied all records and specimen."

The Old Man butts in. "You found the, uh, other one?"

"Of course Sashas have," sniffs Tall Sasha, "but she is much older than Charles and Sashas want to make sure process is same before treating Charles."

Chuck swallows, still rasps, "What're you gonna do to me?"

"Tonight, Sashas watch Charles change, be dragon, and become Charles again."

"Sashas also take samples: blood, scales, pyrofluid, tooth, claw."

"How're you gonna get close enough for that without me, you know, eating you?"

Synchronized eyebrows.

"Sashas know what Sashas are doing, Charles."

Chuck ducks his head, mumbles. "Right. Sorry."

"Is alright, Charles. Is good to worry about such things."

Chuck exhales.

"Has Charles eaten yet?"

"Uh, no? I just woke up."

"Good, good!" Tall Sasha flows to her feet. "Sashas will take first samples now."

Fingernail clipping, cheek swabs, skin scraping, hair pulling, two vials of tears, and about a liter of blood later, the Sashas finally let Chuck choke down some toast.

"Charles does not feel well?"

"I feel like **shit**."

"Chuck, language."

He rolls his eyes. "I always feel terrible the day of and the day after."

"When does Charles' health start to decline before?"

"'bout a week. Takes three days or so afterward to feel normal again, too."

The Sashas exchange a look.

"What?" prompts Chuck.

"Is nothing. Yet."

"Only data."

Chuck slumps a bit and something niggles.

"Does change come with newest of moon or by clock?"

"It's timed to the moon," supplies the Old Man, "and he goes back at sunrise."

Sashas murmur.

Chuck sits straighter. "I just remembered I left something I need with Mako. Can I go get it quick?"

The Old Man looks to the Sashas.

"Charles may go if Charles promises to come straight back," says Tall Sasha.

Chuck pushes his chair away from the kitchen table, mumbles, "Yea, of course, no problem, be right back."

He jams on his shoes and throws himself through the halls, straight to The Den. It takes him three tries to open the door, but he does, staggers into the common room.

First and Second Evie stare, open-mouthed, at him.

"Mori," he pants. "Becket. Where're they?"

"Uh, Raleigh's in Hogsmeade with some of the other boys, but Mako's in her—"

"Thanks," he tosses over his shoulder as he rushes out, skids to a halt inside the room Mako shares—

She looks up from the parchment she's working on, eyes wide and worried.

—closes and locks the door behind himself.

"What's wrong? Are you—"

"You an' Raleigh need to stay in tonight," he wheezes.

"Why n—"

"The Russians are gonna be out looking for the dragon and might catch you if you go."

A wrinkle forms between Mako's eyebrows. "Chuck ... why do they know when to look for the dragon?"

He oozes down the door to sit on the rug. "They're friends with my old man." Shrugs. "They wanna brew some kinda Wolfsbane Potion to tame it and I guess they need to see it for themselves first."

"Wolfsbane?" Mako creeps over, sits beside him. "Do you think they can do it?"

Chuck blinks away some of the grit in his eyes. "They say they're the best in the world, but I'm not getting my hopes up. You can't tame dragons."

"This one isn't a typical dragon: perhaps he can be."

Chuck shivers, hugs himself.

Mako says, "Are you—"

He startles.

"—cold? Would you like a blanket?"

"Wha? Oh, uh, no, thanks. I have t'go back right away. The Sashas wanna keep their eyes on me the rest of the day."

"They're both named Sasha?"

"I think half of Russia's named Sasha." He wobbles to his feet. "I **really** need to go 'fore they start looking."

Mako stands, looks at him, eyes just as worried as when he came in.

He gets a hand on the doorknob for support, grumbles, "What?"

"I'd like to walk with you to your room." She wrings her hands, eyes down. "If that's alright."

"'s fine. Let's just get going." Chuck fumbles with the door.

Mako gently pushes his hand away, then links their arms. "I will deal with the doors. You concentrate on standing and walking."

"I can **totally** —"

"No, you can't."

He sags.

"Let me help, Chuck," she says gently.

"Thanks," he whispers.

Mako works the door and Chuck leans on her as they set out for faculty housing and the Sashas' prying eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [carlfbagge](https://www.flickr.com/photos/12535240@N05/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](http://ttps://www.flickr.com/photos/12535240@N05/31565423660/).
> 
> You just _knew_ these two had to show up eventually, right? XD
> 
> (Yes, I know there's a _major_ difference between Russia and Ukraine; the characters here are just continually forgetting which one is the Kaidanovskys' homeland.)


	7. Magical Beasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako, Chuck, and Raleigh discuss the care and feeding of a number of magical creatures, including Chuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 April 2017  
> (4 days after transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... Lance is definitely all business on top and a party underneath ...

Mako and Raleigh unfold from their fur at the edge of Chuck's meadow on the Forest's fringes, approach him and the thestrals cautiously.

He warns, "Watch your step. They're tetchy." Squints at the sky. "Think there's a storm coming."

Raleigh rolls his eyes, mumbles, "'Watch' the invisible—hey!"

Mako removes her elbow from his ribs.

Chuck scoots over on the blanket to make room for them.

Mako settles in beside him, picks up a scrap, offers it to a waiting Daisy.

She plucks it with dainty good manners.

Raleigh plops down on the end, crosses his legs, asks, "Who's here today?"

Mako strokes Daisy's velvet nose.

"The usual suspects." Chuck points. "Finn, Oscar, Holly, Lilly, Rosie, Daisy's with Mako, and Max—who needs to get his fat self **out of the food**." Shoves aggressively at the foal stretching across him toward the wad of waxed paper. "Sorry, boy, none left. You already ate it all."

Max steps back; his eyes get big and soft.

"That face doesn't work on me. Ask Becket." Jerks his thumb.

Max huffs, slinks around Daisy—

"You finally look like yourself again," says Mako.

Chuck grunts.

—headbutts Raleigh's chest.

He rocks backward, squawking and flailing.

Mako hides a laugh behind her hand; even Chuck cracks a smile.

Max makes a frustrated noise, trots off toward his mum.

"Rough one this time, huh?" offers Raleigh, straightening his clothes.

"Yea, probably 'coz the Sashas drained like half my blood." Chuck grimaces. "Apparently spent the whole time breaking things, too, and I don't know **what** they hit me with, but I've got a bruise as big around as a saucer."

"Considering the size of Taller Sasha, it was probably a tree and he didn't use magic."

"Funny, Becket, real funny."

"It was a sort of Knockback Jinx and Tall Sasha cast it," corrects Mako.

Chuck and Raleigh blink at her, chorus, "You were there?"

"Of course I was there," she sniffs. "I promised I would be with Chuck every time."

"How did you not get caught?" squeaks Raleigh.

"I **told** you not to!" yelps Chuck.

Thestrals skitter off.

Mako crosses her arms. "I was careful and I never agreed to stay away."

"You—" Chuck throws up his hands in frustration, grumps, "Don't you **dare** blame me if you get in trouble."

"I won't get in trouble because I won't be caught."

Raleigh's expression goes a bit goofy. "Yea, you're right. **You** won't be."

Chuck scoffs.

"Are you saying she can't do it?"

"I'm saying **no one** can do it forever, especially not with people like the Sashas on the lookout."

"You must admit you're an ideal distraction, Chuck. No one will notice a black dog with you around."

He concedes with a huff.

Max wanders over, folds his ridiculously spindly legs, cushions his head—

"Oi! No—gerroff you li'l—!"

—closes his eyes, and sighs.

"That's so cute!"

Chuck grumbles.

"What? What's happening?"

"Max is sleeping with his head in Chuck's lap."

"That sounds **adorable** ," snickers Raleigh.

Chuck rolls his eyes, but scratches behind Max's stubby horns.

"I think you've made a pet of him."

" **I** think he's just trying to butter me up for more treats."

Max snores in a wheezy way.

"I was wrong before, **that** sounds adorable."

"Want it to be the last thing you hear? Keep it up."

"You wouldn't hurt him. You shouldn't even joke like that."

Chuck hangs his head, mutters, "Sorry, Becket."

"'s'okay. I know you didn't mean it." Raleigh grins. "You're trying to hide the fact you're actually a big teddy bear."

"Remind me to kick your ass later."

"Tomorrow afternoon's good for me. You?"

Chuck replies with an obscene gesture.

Raleigh laughs.

Max snorts himself awake, blinks slowly.

"Go back to sleep, ye lazy critter."

Max's eyes drift closed.

"He even listens to you," giggles Mako.

"Unlike some people," Chuck mutters.

Mako winces.

"You can't hold wanting to help against her," scolds Raleigh.

"Yea, I can. She can get thrown out for something like that—being unregistered **and** sneaking around places she's not supposed to be."

Mako rallies. "You're not angry with Raleigh for doing the same—"

"Because he **listened** when I said not to risk it 'round the Sashas and I don't care about him as much!"

" **Chuck!** "

"What? It's true!"

Max huffs, scrabbles to his feet, sorts out his legs, flounces off with a flick of his tail.

"Kinda hurt over here."

"You can take care of yourself—"

"And I can't?!"

"No—that's not—I—aw fuck it." Chuck hunches, braces his chin on his palms, mumbles, "'m gonna shut up now. Forget I exist."

The silence is sullen as the thestrals fade into the trees.

"So ... Chuck, what did the Sashas have to say?"

"'m not here."

Mako pokes—

Chuck hisses.

—says, "You clearly are."

"Fine." He puts on a ridiculous Slavic accent, intones, "'Sashas will experiment, find Dragonsbane, send for Charles when ready.'"

"And then?"

"Then I take it and hope it works or at least kills me outright."

Raleigh says, voice gentle, "Why do you want to die so much?"

"Because everyone'd be better off without me."

"Not Raleigh and I. Not Max."

"For now. You'll all get sick of dealing with a monster."

"You're not a monster," protests Raleigh.

"I know it's hard to get through to your sunshiny puppy brain, Becket, but far as most people are concerned, I am. Worst kinda magical beast: known wizard-killer, too dangerous for anyone but experts to deal with."

"We must be experts, then."

"Mako ... it doesn't really matter what **you** think. Or Becket." He sits up a little straighter. "Folks don't like werewolves, let **alone** dragons. I'm the worst of 'em together and I'll be lucky to make it t'twenty whether or not anyone **else** figures it out."

"You really think someone will try to **kill** you?"

Chuck shrugs. "If I hurt someone, yea. Maybe even if I scare someone important bad enough."

Mako swallows. "I doubt—"

Chuck waves her off. "They might lock me up somewhere permanent instead."

Lets his head fall back. "Oops, forgot. Already am."

"Hogwarts isn't a prison."

"For me it is. I haven't been farther than Hogsmeade since it happened."

"I didn't know that," murmurs Mako.

"Why? It's not like you're unpredictable: you can just take the Floo Network back here before the moon changes."

"Maybe I could if my old man wasn't scared I'll do something stupid and dangerous like run away or attack somebody with my bare hands. Or teeth."

"Would you actually do that?"

"Not if I had a wand on me," scoffs Chuck.

"You'd **bite** someone if you didn't?"

"If there wasn't another way to win, yea."

Raleigh gives a low whistle. "Remind me not to piss you off."

"Don't piss me off, Becket."

"Not **now** —"

"You'd really run away?"

Chuck bows his head, rubs the back of his neck. "Thought about it a few times, but—" Takes a deep breath. "—it's safer—for me, too—to stay here."

Mako's heart twists in the silence which follows.

Chuck inhales deeply, says, "Was one good thing, though, about the Sashas poking me. Finally got to see sorta what it looks like. The scales, at least."

"You didn't—don't know what you look like?"

"'s'not like I'm thinking about mirrors, ay?"

"Judging by the usual state of your hair, I suspect you're actually allergic to them."

"She's got a point. You sure you're not a vampire?"

Chuck scowls at Raleigh. "Wouldn't I be dead 'bout now if I was?"

"Maybe the dragon skin protects from the sunburn?"

"If that's so, how'd I make it **that** far?"

"Sunscreen?" offers Mako.

"Maybe southern hemisphere sunshine's okay for vampires? You know, 'coz it's backwards?"

Mako laughs.

"Becket?"

"Yea, Chuck?"

"Don't piss me off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Ken-ichi Ueda](https://www.flickr.com/photos/ken-ichi/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/ken-ichi/2376963852).
> 
> I am ridiculously proud of this chapter because it earned me the first compliment on my writing from my wife in a _long_ time. She liked the banter between Chuck and Raleigh, especially the ass-kicking appointment bit.


	8. Caught Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck reveals his violent nature when a witness stumbles upon his transformation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 27 April 2017  
> (0 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... they were absolutely gorgeous over the house, but none of the pictures turned out, so we'll have to make do with some from Donegal ...

Chuck stops scratching his neck against a tree, turns his nose to the breeze, sniffs.

Across the clearing, Mako and Raleigh pause in their hunt for shed scales to test the air, too.

Tea, amber soap, chalk, human sweat, fear.

Chuck faces up to the source, predator's eyes shining green in the starlight.

""Mori!"" calls a familiar voice.

Mako's heart sinks; she nudges Raleigh, whimpers.

""Becket!"" shouts Professor Hansen.

Raleigh licks her nose, whuffles reassurance.

Chuck, though, folds himself as small as he can, belly pressed tight to the ground.

""If you can hear me, keep quiet and come toward my voice!""

Chuck shifts his hind legs, digs in his claws.

Mako whines.

Chuck flicks an eye—

Raleigh woofs, telegraphs 'follow me' as loudly as he can.

—re-focuses in the direction of Professor Hansen's voice.

""Mako!"" Closer now.

The tip of Chuck's tail twitches.

""Raleigh!"" Even closer.

Bushes rustle.

Chuck takes and holds a deep breath.

Mako barks as loud as she can.

Silence, except for the bark's echoes.

Mako relaxes.

""Who's there?"" Professor Hansen steps into the grassy space, into the gap between Chuck and Mako.

Chuck lunges, jaws gaping.

Professor Hansen's arm and wand sweep—

Golden sparks shower as claws scrape across an invisible shield.

—yelps, "Stop! **Please** , kid! You'll hurt yourself!"

—roars, strikes again and again and again.

The shield holds.

Mako ....

Raleigh charges in, barking loudly—

Chuck rumbles.

—weaves between Chuck's forelegs, nips at his chin—

Chuck cocks his head, smacks Raleigh with the back of his paw.

—rolls heels over head—

Mako runs, dives under Chuck's lashing tail, races up to his head, jumps and yaps at his eye and ear.

—scrambles to his feet, launches himself at Chuck, resumes his antics.

Chuck looks from Raleigh to Mako to Professor Hansen, huffs.

Raleigh and Mako keep running and baying.

With a frustrated noise, Chuck snaps open his wings, hauls himself skyward with powerful down-strokes.

The force of air sends Mako and Raleigh tumbling.

By the time they get their legs sorted and shrug off the dizziness, Chuck is out of sight.

Mako turns—

Blue light flashes.

—stretches and grows, sheds her tail and claws, stares at her pink hands and short nails.

"What the bloody fu—what've you two **done**?!" yells Professor Hansen, looming over them.

Raleigh squeaks, "I can—"

"Look—!"

Professor Hansen whirls—

Chuck crashes back to earth, strikes—

—his wand flies away, he raises a bloody hand, shouts, " _Lumos solem_!", steps—

A bolt of brilliant white.

Chuck roars, staggers back, blinking rapidly and shaking his head.

—between Chuck and Raleigh and Mako, commands, " _Protego maxima_! _Fianto duri_!"

The air around them shimmers as Professor Hansen sinks to his knees, fishes in a coat pocket.

"Are you—"

"Gimme a moment!" Professor Hansen opens a small tin, scoops out a glob of a silvery cream, and coats the deep scratch across the back of his hand with it, hissing.

"What ...."

Professor Hansen sits back on his heels. "Zinc and dittany." Turns his hand to and fro. "It'll only scar."

Mako swallows.

"I'm sorry," whimpers Raleigh. "We—I shouldn't have—"

"Will this shield keep him out?" cringes Mako.

"Never tried it before," sighs Professor Hansen, "but I'm pretty sure it will. Worked for the Sashas."

Outside, Chuck sniffs the air, shuffles a few steps, sniffs again.

"At the very least, he can't see us anymore." He shrugs. "Only needs to hold a few minutes anyway. It's almost sunrise."

Raleigh blows out a deep breath; Mako takes one.

"Now, for love of heaven, what are you **doing** out here?!"

Mako puts her shoulders back. "We're helping Chuck."

"Helping?!" Professor Hansen's voice breaks; he jabs a finger at Chuck. "How is this **helping**?! He could **kill** you!"

"He **won't**."

"Y-yea! You saw him hit me: just hard enough to get me out of his way. He knows we're his friends."

Chuck circles their bubble, snout to the ground, slowly drawing closer.

"Kids ... I know you want to help, but he's not **safe** like this. It's too easy for him to snap your neck a-and one bite's all it takes to ...."

"We know the risks and we've made our choice," declares Mako.

"He's our friend," adds Raleigh.

Professor Hansen shakes his head.

_thump._

Chuck spins, noses the shield where his tail had struck it. Pokes it with a claw. Pushes with a paw. Steps up, one foot above the other, testing the height and strength of their sanctuary.

"How ... how long have you been doing this?"

"We've joined him since December." Mako locks her gaze with Professor Hansen's. "He shouldn't have to suffer alone."

_whoompf!_

Orange flames lick along the surface of the bubble.

It holds.

Chuck roars frustration, drags his claws along the surface, trailing sparks.

Raleigh squares himself up. "Professor, what're **you** doing out here? We haven't seen you before."

"I spotted you sneaking out and didn't want you eaten."

"But why weren't you with him before?"

Professor Hansen says—

The first snatch of morning birdsong floats past.

With a whimper, Chuck backs away from them; Mako's heart stutters as she notices the brightening blue sky and little fluffy clouds overhead.

Professor Hansen stands, faces Chuck, straightens his spine.

Raleigh threads his fingers through Mako's, gives a squeeze.

She presses back, clamps shut her eyes.

Chuck howls over the wrenching sound of splintering bone.

Forever later, his cries stop and sleepy doves provide the only sound.

Professor Hansen rasps, "" _Finite_.""

Mako pries open teary eyes.

Chuck, small and pale and very still, lies huddled on the ground making quiet, pained noises.

"'s'alright, Charlie, 's over, I got you," whispers Professor Hansen, crouching down and wrapping Chuck in his coat—

A whimper.

—gathers Chuck in his arms, and eases to standing, orders quietly, "Follow me, you two."

They nod, push to their feet, brush off their trousers, trudge after him in the general direction from which he'd come.

Suddenly, Raleigh bends, squints at something lying in the grass.

"What is it?" Mako peers over his shoulder.

Dark wood, splintered into three jagged pieces.

"Professor Hansen? I think I found your wand."

""Bring it with you.""

Raleigh reverently picks it up, grimaces as the bits twist, exposing strands of golden hair. "Veela," he breathes.

""It's unicorn,"" corrects Professor Hansen.

"But that's whi—"

""Let's keep going.""

"Oh, uh, right."

He leads them back to the Shack by a direct path they'd never noticed, saying nothing.

"He must've Obfuscated it," whispers Raleigh.

Mako nods agreement.

They leave the dark of the Forest for the lighter dark of a brushy field.

Chuck slurs, ""Wha're **you** doin'?""

Mako can't help smiling at the amount of offense in his tone.

""Tol' you—""

""I came looking for your friends 'coz I saw them sneaking into the Forest. Found you, too.""

Her smile fades.

""Pu' me down.""

""Not 'til we get inside.""

Chuck grunts, then goes quiet for the rest of the walk.

At the Shack, Professor Hansen finally lets Chuck stand on his own to get himself dressed.

Mako nudges Raleigh, bobs her chin toward Chuck's shaking hands.

Raleigh whispers against her ear, "Yea, this's the worst I've seen him."

Mako chews her lower lip.

Chuck manages his outfit, ignoring Professor Hansen's gestures of help, wobbles over to Mako. He leans heavily against her side, mumbles, "Le's go."

She hums, sets out for the castle at a shamble, but even that has Chuck wheezing from exhaustion before they reach the kitchen entrance and panting by the time they reach the door to his quarters.

Professor Hansen beckons them inside, which Chuck had never done.

At first glance, the Hansens' rooms are sparse but comfortable; there's even a rather merry blaze in the fireplace to greet them.

Raleigh gently places the broken wand on the nearest clear table.

Meanwhile, Chuck drags himself directly across the room to the settee, then collapses, seemingly boneless, on the cushions.

Professor Hansen drapes three waiting quilts over him, pats—flattens his palm against his thigh, turns back to Mako and Raleigh.

Mako studies her shoes.

"Professor Hansen?"

"Yea, Becket?"

"What will you do with us?"

"We're all going to talk to the Headmaster."

Mako swallows the lump in her throat and she risks a peek at Professor Hansen.

"Later, after we've all had some sleep." He smiles, not unkindly. "Get back to your rooms. You'll see him in a couple of days, like usual."

"Yes, sir," they chorus and slink off toward The Den; Raleigh in a hunched, head-down plod, Mako with her heart in her shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [john.purvis](https://www.flickr.com/photos/16271433@N02/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/16271433@N02/16228402583/).
> 
> This one was a bit of a struggle and I hope it's not too clunky.


	9. In Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Hansen keeps his word, which means Mako and Raleigh face Hogwarts discipline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 27 April 2017  
> (0 days after transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... finally found the perfect carpet for your room! I had to go all the way to this dodgy little backstreet in Belfast, but I! FOUND! IT! Technically, this shopcat led me to it, but ...

Mako worries—

"Careful!" shrieks Second Evie. "You're gonna explode it!"

—steps away from the cauldron, carefully places the fire seed on the heat-resistant tray.

"What is **wrong** with you today? You're **never** this air-headed."

"I ...." Mako shifts, glances over her shoulder toward the door. "I did not sleep well."

"Worrying about your boyfriend." Second Evie pairs a reassuring smile with wistful eyes. "I **totally** understand."

Mako grinds mental gears until: "My boyfriend?"

"Chuck Hansen's—"

Mako blinks rapidly, cogs slipping.

"—sick **again** , right? I hope there's not something **serious** wrong with him, but he misses so many classes, there almost **has** to be." Second Evie picks up the tongs and the fire seed.

"I ... hadn't noticed."

Second Evie scoffs. "You two are joined at the hip, so you **have** to notice when he's not around." Eases the seed along the side of the cauldron until it's fully submerged.

Mako blinks a few more times, remembers to breathe.

"'sides, **everyone's** noticed." Leans in conspiratorially. "There's even a rumour he's a **werewolf** because he's out once a month."

The potion fizzes, smelling vaguely like cherry cream soda.

"That can't be true." Mako assembles thoughts. "The full moon isn't for weeks, for a beginning."

"I **know**. I said there's a rumour, not that the rumour was anything like true."

"O-of course. I'm sorry I jumped to a conclusion."

"You're forgiven, Mako." Second Evie beams. "What do we add next?"

Mako consults her textbook, forces the letters to form words, says, "Four drops of infusion of wormwood, gently swirled in."

"If you swirl, I'll drop."

Mako hums agreement and takes out her wand, makes the proper motions.

The rest of preparation is absorbing enough that Mako forgets to worry for the rest of the period and she and Second Evie receive top marks for their Praesagitio Potion, although the professor confiscates it, much to Second Evie's whiny disappointment.

Mako cleans her cauldron, then gathers her supplies and books, slinks to the exit, heart steadily dropping.

Professor Hansen, waiting right outside the classroom door, greets, "Good morning, Miss Mori—"

She eeps—

Second Evie plows into her back.

Professor Hansen steadies them both.

—says—makes nothing but a breathy noise.

"Miss Mori, come with me please," he says. "Miss Haynes, please take her supplies back to her room."

"Yes, Professor," replies Second Evie as Mako passes over her cauldron and books.

The whispering starts as soon as Mako turns to Professor Hansen.

She keeps her head up and back straight as she marches away from Potions along the halls to the Deputy Headmaster's office.  

Raleigh's already there, standing in front of the desk. He sketches a wave and a reassuring smile.

Mako does her best to reply in kind.  

Professor Hansen perches on a chair tucked against a bookcase with his hands between his knees, playing with the heavy ring on his finger.

Deputy Headmaster Pentecost stands, glides around her desk, stops directly in from of them, and inclines her head in greeting. "Mister Becket, Miss Mori."

"Deputy Headmaster," they chorus.

"Professor Hansen's filled me in on your nocturnal adventures with the non-existent baby dragon which most certainly does **not** live in the Forbidden Forest."

Mako tries to parse that.

"Uh, ma'am?"

"You've been keeping Mister Hansen company  during his monthly transformations."

"You know—?" Raleigh shuts his mouth so fast his teeth click.

"Yes, I'm **very** aware of his condition and the threat it potentially poses to other students at this school."

"He's not a—"

"Excuse me, Miss Mori."

Mako wishes she was a carpet.

"Better. As I was saying—"

Mako cringes anew.

"—I'm aware of the threat a were-creature might become. That threat is one of the reasons the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. Students with conditions like Mister Hansen's need a sanctuary, too."

Raleigh shifts his feet; Mako swallows around the growing lump in her throat.

"By flouting the ban, even as disguised as you were—and we'll get to that in a moment—you encourage other students to explore the Forest and that puts Mister Hansen and its permanent inhabitants at risk. Not to mention how the students could be attacked by a number of creatures even nastier than Mister Hansen's alter-ego." The Deputy Headmaster steps closer. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," croaks Raleigh.

"Yes, ma'am," whispers Mako.

Deputy Headmaster Pentecost nods, backs to her desk, leans against it. "Listen, kids, I know you want to help your friend, but the best way to do that is to stay away from him at the new moon—and out of the Forest at all times."

"He shouldn't suffer alone," protests Mako.

After a deep breath, the Deputy Headmaster says, "Some very skilled people are searching for a way to treat his pain and I'm confident they'll find one."

Raleigh nearly growls his reply: "You want us to stand by and let him hurt out there, all alone."

"I do, Mister Becket."

Mako squares her shoulders. "I can't do that, Deputy Headmaster. I promised him I would be with him every month."

"I understand and admire your loyalty, Miss Mori, but last night is the final time you'll enter the Forbidden Forest without a faculty member. I'll explain this to Mister Hansen as soon as I'm done with you two."

"But Dep—"

"You are **not** to enter the Forbidden Forest again. If you do, the punishment will be more extreme than polishing Great Hall candelabra. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," mumbles Raleigh.

"Miss Mori?"

"Yes, Deputy Headmaster, I understand."

"Next item: how did you learn of Mister Hansen's condition?"

Mako shivers.

"Miss Mori?"

"I saw the scars on his arm and, when I confronted him about them, he told me what had happened."

Deputy Headmaster Pentecost looks to Professor Hansen.

He frowns, says, "I'll talk to him."

"Please do. You, Mister Becket?"

"I, uh, noticed that he was missing class at the same time every month and that it lined up with the new moon and I remembered reading about were-dragons and how darkness brings them out ...." He stutters to a stop, then adds, "He fit the pattern."

"A very clever bit of reasoning."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Have you shared what you know about Mister Hansen with anyone else?"

"No!"

"No, ma'am. We would **never** put Chuck at risk like that," declares Mako.

Raleigh nods fervently.

"Since that's the way you feel, it should be easy for you to stop drawing attention to him and the Forest, yea?"

Mako hangs her head, scuffs her toe against the carpet.

"Now for our other bit of business. You're both Animagi."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yes, Deputy Headmaster."

"Show me. Mister Becket first, please."  

Raleigh nods, shuffles a step sideways, shrugs into his shaggy golden coat, floppy ears, and big brown eyes. He sits politely, tail whapping on the rug.

"Well done. Miss Mori, please."

"Yes, Deputy Headmaster," she says and stretches brindled fur around herself, drops onto four padded paws, pricks her ears, sits at attention.

"Lovely. Please resume your human forms."

They shed their fur, tuck away their ears, test their recovered thumbs.

"Who taught you?"

"I found a book about Animagi in the library in my second term and decided to try it."

"You seem to spend a lot of time in the library."

Raleigh smiles, shrugs. "I read fast?"

Deputy Headmaster Pentecost snorts a laugh. "And you, Miss Mori?"

"Raleigh introduced me to a text on the subject and I trained myself."

"You did this solely to accompany Mister Hansen."

"I did, ma'am," replies Mako.

"And you helped her because she wanted to."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The Sorting Hat certainly got the two of you right: loyal right down to your bones."

Mako meets her warm smile with a small one of her own.

"As for your hard-won transfiguration skills, are you registered as Animagi with the Ministry of Magic?"

"No, ma'am."

"No, Deputy Headmaster."

" **Will** you be by the end of the day?"

Mako and Raleigh exchange a look.

"Eyes front, please."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll register."

"I will as well."

"Good." She rounds her desk, claims her chair with intimidating grace. "Now, do you have any questions for me?"

Mako traces the carpet pattern with her eyes, murmurs, "No, ma'am."

"Umm, are we going to be punished?" hazards Raleigh.

"The fear of what could happen to Mister Hansen if you expose his condition should be enough—" Leans forward, grins with very sharp-looking teeth. "—don't you think?"

"Yes, ma'am," they murmur.

"You may go."

Raleigh and Mako bow and flee for the halls, not slowing until they reach a quiet corner near The Den, where they plop on the floor.

He closes his eyes and gently bonks the back of his head against the wall.

She picks at the cuff of her robe.

"Okay," sighs Raleigh, "that could've been worse."

Mako raises an eyebrow. "How so?"

"We could've lost lots of House Points? She might've banned us from seeing Chuck at all? We could've been suspended or expelled?"

Mako's stomach twists.

"Yea, we got off pretty easy." Raleigh takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, offers a weak smile. "Wish it felt better, though."

Mako draws her knees up to her chest, hugs them. "Raleigh, what will we do?"

He ruffles his hair. "I dunno. I don't want to leave him on his own, but I don't want to get us—or him—expelled either, so ... I really don't know."

"We can't abandon him."

"Staying with him might get us all in trouble," Raleigh points out.

"He's our friend and friends protect each other."

"And that's what Hufflepuffs do, right?"

"Right," agrees Mako.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [Sarah](https://www.flickr.com/photos/98895123@N00/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/98895123@N00/2797871/).
> 
> Man, did this take a few drafts to get everyone's voice right, especially getting Luna to walk the line between friendliness and military discipline. Not sure I have her balanced right, but all the drafts at least made _that_ better.


	10. His Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and his father discuss the night's events and draw some conclusions about the behavior of Chuck's were-self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 27 April 2017  
> (0 days after transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... picked a chilly day to go walking, but the view was great until the fog came down and we got lost ...

Chuck is awake.

His blankets smell ... off. Like castle, not ....

Air from the closing door puffs across his skin.

He sniffs; his nose wrinkles, slapped by the Old Man's guilt, a heavy note of shame, and a twinge of fear.

Chuck claws at the back of the couch, hauls himself to sitting—

Old Man squeaks, flutters over.

—grits out, "Wha'did you do?"

"What're you—"

Chuck sets his teeth against the ache in every bone. "What. did. you. do."

"I taught my first per—"

Chuck hisses; Old Man steps back, palms out.

"Wha'did you do tha'll piss me off?" Sneers, "Has you **scared** 'a me?"

"It was a normal—"

"Stop **lyin'**!"

Old Man looks down, away—guilt **rolls** off him—mumbles, "Had a meeting with Luna. She banned Mako and Becket from the Forest."

Chuck rolls his eyes. "Already banned. Everyone is."

"She threatened expulsion if they get caught again."

"That doesn't—"

"You. She said she'd expel **you** if they go out there again."

Chuck grinds his teeth, spits, "That yer idea?"

"I had nothing to—"

"You just wanna get rid 'a me, too!"

"I—"

"Get me locked up like ye did yer brother?!"

"Wha? **No!** O-of course—"

"Looks like it t'me!"

" **Chuck!** " roars the Old Man—

Even **It** quails.

—steps closer, "You turned on 'em last night! I had t' blind you and put up a shield to keep us safe! From **you**."

Chuck's heart seizes, drops, splashes into his stomach; his brain spins—

"Are you gonna—"

The memory forms, clear and bright as starlight, and Chuck sits straighter, snarls, " **You!** "

The Old Man jumps back, nearly goes down over the armchair. "Chuck, what're you—"

" **Yer** fault! **You** set It off!" Chuck sucks a lungful of air through clenched teeth. "Thought you hurt 'em."

"The hell're you saying?"

"Dragonlore: nestlings protect each other—even the runty ones." Deep breath. " **It** thinks the pups are Its flight an' guards 'em. Human—enemy, threat—walks in? Defends 'em. Then, no pups, more people, goes crackers. Rawr." Chuck sags back into the cushions.

The Old Man blinks. Opens and closes his mouth. Blinks some more.

Chuck wheezes a laugh.

Old Man smiles-sorta.

The laugh turns into a cough.

Old Man skitters off to the kettle, comes back and presses a warm mug into Chuck's hands. "Water."

"Thanks," croaks Chuck, sipping.

"'welcome." He perches on the edge of the coffee table.

Chuck drains the cup; Old Man exchanges it for a full one.

"So. Right. Forest's dangerous, fulla things can hurt baby dragons an' the pups got no wings 'r claws 'r real teeth, far as It can tell, so It's extra careful 'bout 'em." Chuck lets his eyes fall shut. "Kinda surprised ye got close enough t'see 'em, considering."

""Might not've anyway, if Mako hadn't started barking to warn me off.""

"'ll tell 'er not to next time."

""There won't be a 'next time', Chuck.""

He drags open his eyes. "They're **safe** with It. 's **you** who's not."

"That's not the whole problem." The Old Man holds his gaze, takes a deep breath. "They're not the first kids we've caught trying to sneak a peek at the baby dragon, just the first ones to actually manage it before we did."

Chuck sips more, heart sinking again. "I din't know ...."

"Luna, Stacker, and I've been running 'em off steady since you started flying. Think we've scolded fully half the Sixth- and Seventh-Year Gryffindors." Sighs. "One of these days, though, we're not gonna catch them in time and—"

"An' It's gonna kill 'em." Chuck shudders. "Or **change** 'em."

"Yea ... that's what we're afraid of. That's why we have to come down so hard on Mako and Becket, yea? The Forest can't be an option for **anyone** if you want to stay here."

"But It won't hurt Mako an' Ray!" Chuck hates the whine in his voice. "An' I'm actually better off with 'em around!"

"What?"

"'member how It used to tear me up?"

The colour drains from the Old Man's face.

Chuck grunts, satisfied he remembers rightly. "Hasn't done that since they came along. Spends all Its energy watching over 'em."

Awkward silence, filled with the smell of guilt.

"Sasha's working on that potion for you. 'm expecting an update by owl today or tomorrow."

"Mako an' Ray help **now** , not—" Waves vaguely. "—whenever."

The Old Man looks away, rests a hand against his neck—

Chuck's stomach lurches at a ghost-smell of fresh human blood.

"Did It bi—"

His throat closes off the word.

"It's a scratch. Looks worse than it is."

Chuck hides his exhale behind his cup, drinks it dry.

Old Man offers another, piping hot, his hand shaking.

"Sorry," mumbles Chuck around a mouthful.

"For what?"

"The swipe. Has t' hurt like Hell."

Old Man shrugs. "Probably less than the sunburn you got from me."

"Wha?"

"Your cheeks?"

Chuck touches his face, sending a dull sting and heat from under his fingers. He raises an eyebrow.

"I, uh, used _Lumos solem_ to get some space between you and the kids. It's what Sasha suggested I do if I ever had to do **something**."

Chuck grumbles into his water.

"I'll bring some aloe for it from the greenhouses?"

Chuck sniffs, finishes his water, passes—

Old Man takes the mug, sets it on the table.

—oozes deeper into his nest of cushions and blankets.

"Do you want something to eat before you turn back in?"

Chuck grunts a negative.

"More blankets?"

"'m fine." He wiggles in deeper, rearranges his elbows and knees. "They won' tell, ye know."

"Who won't tell what?"

Chuck's eyes slide closed and he mumbles, "Mako an' Ray. Won't tell anyone 'bout It. They're Badgers. Loyal."

""They won't unless it's to enlist the whole Den, Chuck.""

"Not them. Diff'rent. Smarter 'an the average Badger."

""You might be right, but ...."" The Old Man sighs. ""We'll talk more about it when you're feeling better, ay?""

"Wha'ever."

""Sleep well, kid.""

Chuck huffs, pulls the quilts up over his head, and surrenders himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Rob Hurson](https://www.flickr.com/photos/robhurson/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/robhurson/31571968302/in/photostream/).
> 
> This chapter's built around words Chuck gifted to Gotham last night, with a few bits of family history for this edition of the Hansens thrown in because it was the _perfect_ opportunity.


	11. Outgrown Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck joins his father on an emergency shopping trip to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 April 2017  
> (3 days after transformation)  
> London, England, United Kingdom

... spring has sprung! There are buds on everything, even that pine tree we thought died ...

Chuck dodges a grab from the Old Man as he staggers out of the public hearth's green flames and onto the cobblestones of Diagon Alley. He keeps his feet, straightens his jumper with a huff.

The Old Man hovers, hands fluttering.

Chuck squares his shoulders, sniffs.

The Old Man ducks his head. "So ... wand first?"

Chuck grunts, shuffles off before his damn legs can get noodly again.

Ollivanders hasn't changed: same peeling paint, same wand on the same cushion on display in the window.

He opens the door, waves the Old Man through.

""Greetings, gentlemen! What may I find for you today?""

"I sent an owl about a broken wand? Hansen?"

Ollivander peers down at Chuck from his perch on a high stool, eyes laughing. "An outbreak of high spirits, young master?"

"His—" Jerks a thumb toward the Old Man. "—is the broken one. Mine's fine."

"Ah my goodness silly me! Pardon my leaping to conclusions."

Chuck inclines his head by way of forgiveness.

Ollivander jumps down, straightens his jacket. "Now, good sir, let's see the damage."

The Old Man pulls the scrap of cloth from a pocket, unrolls it on the tabletop. "Had a bit of an accident."

Ollivander peers closer, runs a gentle fingertip along the dark wood. "Ah! Custom made, you provided the material for the core. Thirteen and three-quarters, Australian blackwood, unicorn foal hair, rather rigid."

"That's the one," mumbles the Old Man.

"It's been less than a year since I made this." Ollivander twinkles. "Perhaps **you** need my lecture on high spirits, Mister Hansen."

The Old Man ducks his head, laughs weakly.

"Have you tried to repair it on your own?"

"Didn't trust myself. The folks at Hogwarts took a look at it, too, and decided not to risk it."

"Very wise of them—not that I'd expect any less. This will take a bit of finesse. Some time, too. Come back around afternoon tea and I should have it good as new."

"Have an estimate on the cost?"

"I believe five Galleons will cover it."

"Right. Thanks."

Ollivander turns his attention to Chuck. "While you're here, let's see your wand, young master."

"Why?"

"Because many young wizards grow out of their wands as often as they grow out of their shoes."

Chuck retrieves his, passes it over.

Ollivander rolls it around his palm. "Thirteen inches, hazel and phoenix feather, unbending." Cocks his head, looks Chuck dead in the eye. "You've been having trouble with it, haven't you?"

Chuck bristles.

"Now, now, young man. Any problems are more likely down to my poor marks in Divination than anything to do with you, Charles 'top of Ravenclaw of his year' Hansen."

Chuck lets his shoulders drop.

"Has there been a major change in your life since you started working with this wand?"

Chuck says—but his tongue goes numb, so he studies his toes.

"His mum left us a bit more than a year ago," offers the Old Man softly.

"Oh dear," mumbles Ollivander. "I am so sorry."

Chuck can't lift his head.

"Charles," says Ollivander, voice gentle, "I helped you find a wand which hasn't grown with you and I'd like to try again."

Chuck sides-eyes—

The Old Man sags, croaks, "Go ahead."

—chews his lip.

"Let me see your wand hand, please, Charles."

Chuck shuffles closer, does as requested.

Ollivander takes Chuck's hand in his, runs his thumb along the life line, humming. He releases Chuck, taps his chin. "Something unusual, I think." Pulls a down a box, barely looking at the shelves. "Let's start with this one: holly, unicorn hair." Offers it.

Chuck accepts.

The wand lies dead on his palm.

"Not that one." Ollivander plucks it back, grabs another box. "This one. Ebony, phoenix feather."

It practically jumps from Chuck's hand.

"Hmm ... that's unexpected." The barest pause, then, "Red oak, dragon heartstring."

The wand twitches, silently sighs.

"Getting there, getting there. This!"

The golden wood settles in Chuck's hand, nearly purring.

"Perfect! Fir and dragon heartstring; a bit swishy to match young master's mercurial nature."

Chuck lets that slide, gives the wand an experimental flick. " _Canifors_."

Silver mist swirls and the wand's discarded box stands and yips: a perfectly formed, minuscule dog with a curled tail and brindle fur. It looks up at Chuck, panting happily.

Chuck scratches its head with a fingertip.

It wags its whole self.

"Well done!" laughs Ollivander.

Chuck smiles, waves, " _Finite_."

The dog is a box again.

"Now, don't expect it always to be that simple, Charles. Fir wands demand focus and stamina from their partners: mind you don't let it run you ragged."

"I can handle it," assures Chuck.

"I do believe you can."

Chuck sniffs.

Ollivander smiles. "You take it now; your father will pay for it when you come back for his." Winks.

Chuck smiles, tucks the wand away.

"Thanks," says the Old Man, pocketing the old wand. "Be back in a couple of hours."

"I'll be ready and waiting~!" Ollivander vanishes among the shelves.

The shop bell jingles; the Old Man holds the door.

Chuck strolls out to the cobbles, a fresh spring in his step.

The Old Man hunches his shoulders, slows to match pace.

Chuck smells roast chestnuts and popcorn and something ... pink on the air.

"So," says the Old Man, "do you want to keep the old one as a spare or get rid of it?"

"Sell it. I won't need it."

The Old Man grunts, turns them into Horizont Alley, then the pawn shop. He heads straight for the counter.

Chuck considers, aims himself for the racks of clothing along the side wall. He runs his hand along the fabric: wool, silk, cotton, leather ... something a feel of charmwork about it.

He tugs the hanger free, studies the tag, brightens! Turns the tag over, sags.

"What did you find?"

Chuck sighs, re-hangs the outfit.

"Spit it out."

"One-Size-Always-Fits clothes."

"Don't mumble."

Chuck takes a deep breath, says in a rush, "One-Size-Always-Fits clothes. I know they're expensive, but can I **please** get some?"

The Old Man winces. "I don't think we can afford it this month, not with the repair job and a new wand to pay for, even with what—"

Chuck covers a wince with a snarled, "How come we never have any money?!"

"Not here."

"Why not?" They're probably used to broke people fighting."

With a sigh, the Old Man says, "Fine. We're broke because repairing the house was expensive. Most of what I make goes to pay down the debt from that."

"The house we can't use," mutters Chuck. "Why don't you **sell** the damn thing?"

"Because Scott and I promised our mum we'd never do that."

"Then why doesn't **Scott** pay for it since he's the one **living** there?"

"We've been over this," grouses the Old Man. "He pays what he can. Even Debra helps a little. It's just—" Shrugs. "—expensive."

"And more important than me going starkers in the winter," mutters Chuck.

The Old Man goes bright red, mumbles, "You'll understand about land someday."

"If I don't catch my fuckin' death first."

"Look—" The Old Man drags a hand down his face. "—I'll talk to Professor Flitwick. Maybe we can charm something you already have."

Chuck rolls his eyes. "The kit's expensive 'coz you need Ministry permission to charm it."

"Yea, but that's just paperwork."

"Which takes **time**."

"Time's free."

"Says the bloke who doesn't have homework to do."

"Chuck ...."

"Yea, yea, fine. I can fill it out next time I'm laid up. Not like I have anything **better** to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Vladimir Yaitkiy](https://www.flickr.com/photos/kronny/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/kronny/13521174384/).
> 
> The Ollivander here would be the son of the Ollivander who works with Harry Potter and company.
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write. I get perverse joy out of pitting Hansen father against Hansen son like this.


	12. Know One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Mako discuss the future, both short- and long-term.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 May 2017  
> (4 days after transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... and the flowers were an absolute riot ...

Mako fiddles with her quill while she waits for Professor Longbottom to begin the morning's Double Herbology lecture.

Robes rustle and Chuck slumps onto the bench beside her, drops his books on the table with a _fump_.

"How're you feeling?" she whispers.

He turns dark-ringed eyes and sunburned cheeks to her, snaps, "How d'ye think?"

Mako cringes away.

Chuck hangs his head, rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry, I din't mean ... I haven't slept much since."

"Shouldn't you—"

"I can't miss any more class. I'm falling behind."

"I'm sure—"

"Mako, it's one of the rules. No—"

Professor Longbottom clears his throat and they focus all their attention on him for the rest of the period.

Class dismissed, they gather their things.

"'m headed to the greenhouses, if you wanna ...."

"I'd like that."

Chuck grunts, trudges off, books under his arm.

Mako follows, quiet, heart aching.

He leads them to the succulent section, over to the _Aloe vera_ , where he breaks off a small piece, squeezes it against his fingertips, and rubs the gel on his reddened cheeks. With a sigh, he taps a healing charm, sealing the injured plant.

She smiles.

"Wanna go sit in the sun?"

"That would lovely."

Outside they go, to Chuck's favourite corner of Garden One; he sits them down behind the curtain of Flitterbloom and closes his eyes.

Mako watches him a moment, then ventures, "I couldn't help but notice you have a new wand."

"Yea. 's a little finicky still, but it's working better than the old one." He opens his eyes, takes it from a robe pocket, lowers his voice and adds, "Ollivander said I'd changed too much for it to handle."

Mako bites her lip. "May I ... may I see it?"

Chuck passes it over.

Mako caresses the pale, burnished wood, surveys its curve, its weight, its flexibility. "It has a dragon heartstring core?"

"Yea. And it's made of—"

" _Abies nordmanniana_ —Nordmann fir." She returns it to him.

"Yea." Chuck raises an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"

"My father taught me how to identify wood."

"Oh. Right. 'course." He looks away, busies himself fine-pruning nearby Flitterbloom with well-aimed Severing charms.

Mako absently tints a strand of flowers coppery-gold.

The next she turns bright blue.

"That's a pretty colour."

"Thank you."

More copper.

"Do you still want to be a wand-maker?" asks Chuck, voice soft.

"I ... I don't know."

Purple-pink, like a bruise.

Chuck teases two stems into a helix.

"Before ... I wanted nothing else. Now ...." She shrugs.

Chuck takes a deep breath. "I, um, kinda know what it's like? Before—" Waves vaguely. "—I was **sure** I was gonna be an auror like my old man was before he started here. Can't—that can't happen now and I still haven't figured out what else to do."

"You have time to decide."

"I guess." Sighs. "But once your life is wrecked bad as mine, it's hard to get back to anything close to normal. 'least that's how it seems."

Mako shivers.

"I mean—it's not—" Gathers himself. "Look, my uncle did time in Azkaban before I was born and **still** can't get a wizarding job because no one **trusts** him. It'll be the same for me, now."

Mako's blood runs cold, stories of Death Eaters flickering across her mind, and she swallows. "If-if I may ask, what did he do?"

"Broke the Statute of Secrecy. Something about fireworks in front of a crowd of Muggles." Hunches his shoulders. "My old man turned him in."

"His brother?"

"Yea. His own flesh an' blood." Chuck drops his hands to his lap. "'spose he didn't have a choice if he wanted to be an auror, but. 's why—" Shakes his head. "Uncle Scott spent two years locked up and now everywizard's afraid to hire him, so he works on a Muggle **farm**. With **sheep**."

Mako stifles a (welcome) giggle at the disgust in Chuck's tone, asks, "Is he happy?"

Chuck goes still, considering.

Mako colours three more flowers blue.

"Ye know, I think he is. 'least, he always **sounds** happy in his notes." Frowns thoughtfully. "He's even got a steady girlfriend now."

"Even though he works with sheep?" snickers Mako.

Chuck smiles for the first time that morning. "I guess? She's Scottish, so maybe that's it. They like sheep, right?"

"So she's using him to get to the sheep?"

"I don't—" Chuck grimaces, shudders, then breaks out laughing.

Mako joins in, mentally patting herself on the back.

"You owe me a brain-bleaching potion."

"I'm not to blame for your dirty mind."

"Takes one to know one, ay?" smirks Chuck.

Mako glares, fighting to keep a straight face.

"It's alright. We're teenagers: we're supposed to have dirty minds."

Mako rolls her eyes.

Chuck snorts, transfigures his Flitterbloom cuttings into yellow butterflies and shoos them into the air.

Mako sits straighter. "Chuck?"

"Yea?"

"Raleigh and I have talked and we believe we've found a way to stay with you."

"We don't leave the starting place."

Mako blinks. "How'd you ...?"

"It's the loophole they left. You can't go into the **Forest** , sure, but they didn't say anything about the rest of the grounds, ay?" Chuck grins, a flash of his old self. "If I saw it, you **had** to."

Mako grins back. "It takes a genius to know one, ay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [lars_o_matic](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lars_o_matic/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lars_o_matic/8730372598/).
> 
> This one was meant to be kinda sad, but the kids absolutely _refused_ to let it stay that way. I'm glad they put their feet down.


	13. Speaking Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an accident, Chuck opens up to Mako about the night his life (and name) changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 May 2017  
> (6 days after transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... wizards have a lot to answer for hiding it from us Muggles. The stuff I got served in the city ...

"Butterbeer! I can't wait!" Raleigh does a little dance while they walk to the faculty housing part of the castle.

"You may have a problem," giggles Mako.

" **Nothing** involving butterbeer is problematic," he laughs.

"I believe such thinking is the first sign of a problem."

Raleigh scoffs.

Mako sighs, fondly.

"So ... are you as happy as me Chuck's willing to come along?"

She hums an agreement.

"Wish we could convince him to join some clubs. You know, get out and make some more friends." 

"He wanted to join the Dueling Club, but he would've missed too many practices."

"They turned him down? Even after what he did to Pang and An?"

"You heard about that?"

"Mako, it was **legend** five minutes after it happened—" Grins. "—which's why it's amazing he's not leading the Ravenclaw team."

"He won't accept concessions to his illness."

"Yea, it'd hurt his pride too much."

"It's one of the conditions of his attendance, as well."

Raleigh ruffles his hair. "That just doesn't seem ... **right** , you know? It's not like they stop Eddie Hill from ducking out to take his insulin shots on time."

"There's a difference between injections which take moments and what Chuck lives through."

"True ...." Raleigh smiles at Mako as they stop at the Hansens' door. "Well, at least he has us."

She smiles—

Roaring—human and beast—

Raleigh pushes Mako—

Mako's ears ring; things whisper past her face and _tink-tink_ on the floor.

—scrambles off her, to standing.

She blinks at his back, at the slivers of wood on the stonework.

""What—""

""Are you alright?"" yelps Professor Hansen.

""We're fine! Chuck? You?""

""We're good.""

Mako finally regains her feet, peers around Raleigh.

Professor Hansen, wand clutched in his hand, watches them through the open—

Not open: **missing** above knee-height.

—door.

Behind him, Chuck, white as unicorn hair, on his backside on the rug, eyes huge and terrified.

"What happened?"

"We—"

Chuck throws himself upright, across the room—

"Chuck!" yells Professor Hansen.

—hurdles what remains of the door, flings himself down the hall—

"Chuck! Wait!" calls Mako.

—around a corner, and out of sight.

She hesitates.

"You go after him," says Raleigh. "I'll help the professor with this."

" _Hai_!" Mako races the direction Chuck had gone, skids around the intersection, then stumbles to a stop.

「Where would you be?」 she mumbles, scanning the empty corridor and tapping a foot in frustration. 「Ah!」 She runs to the castle's front door and out across the lawns, straight toward the place Chuck meets his other friends, not slowing until she reaches the little clearing between the Forest and the wall.

There are no thestrals, but Chuck sits against one of the trees, knees tucked to his chest, forehead pressed to them, hands clasped on the nape of his neck.

Mako catches her breath, then crosses the grass and settles herself beside him, close enough to, but not touching him.

A breeze rustles among the leaves and pushes Mako's hair into her face.

She tucks the loose strands behind her ears.

Somewhere in the distance a hippogriff squawks.

""Why're you here?"" demands Chuck without looking up.

"I'm worried about you."

""Don't be.""

Birds call to each other among the trees.

"Chuck?"

He grunts.

"What happened?"

Chuck sighs, ""Just a boggart in the cabinet.""

Mako frowns. "You cast a perfect banishing spell in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

""Yea, I **know** , but I was expecting a werecritter like I got then."" Takes a deep breath. ""Got a dragon."" Adds in a whisper, ""Blue-eyed.""

Mako's heart stutters.

""Was like lookin' in a mirror and I panicked like an idiot.""

"So your father—"

""Ran in and blew it up."" Chuck shudders. 

"I ... I think he was trying to protect you and overreacted to the threat."

""Which looked exactly like me.""

Mako swallows. "It probably also looked exactly like the creature which attacked you."

Chuck makes a small, surprised noise and goes very still.

"He was protecting you."

""He was probably happy at the chance to kill one of us,"" Chuck scoffs.

Mako controls her temper with a mental five-count.

The hippogriff shrieks again.

She squares herself. "If it's not too rude to ask, why do you always assume the worst about your father?"

""'cause I hate him—"" Chuck lifts his head. "—and he's scared of me."

Mako stares at him, heart twitching against her ribs. "Why—" Swallows. "Why do you say that?"

"I—it's his fault I'm like this."

Something in his voice sends a chill creeping along Mako's bones.

"You want the whole story?"

Mako swallows again, nods. 

Chuck takes a deep breath. "We were supposed to be out watching the stars, all three of us. The old man went back to the cottage to get binos so we could see better."

Birds sing; the trees whisper to each other.

"It came outta nowhere. Got me by the arm, started dragging me toward the woods. She tried—" Chuck hugs his knees to his chest, squeezes shut his eyes. "—but it tore her up. She kept ... and I tried ...." Lets out a shuddery breath. "Then he finally came back, ran it off." 

Mako shivers. 

"You cold?" 

"I'm fine."

Chuck grunts, inhales deeply. "He saved me—" Scratches his scarred arm. "—even though he knew what'd happen." 

"He saved you because he loves you."

Hurt flickers across Chuck's face; he shutters it behind anger and a snarl: "If he **really** loved me, he wouldn't have left me like this." 

"But there's no cure—" 

"I mean **alive**. He shoulda let it kill me." Drops his head to his knees again.

Chuck's shoulders tremble; he sniffles almost inaudibly.

Mako ... wraps her arms around him, holds him close.

Chuck sags against her.

"You're not ... you're Chuck."

He snorts—

Warm breath down the front of her shirt.

—murmurs, ""I'm mostly 'Chuck' 'coz of this whole mess, ye know.""

Mako hums, 'go on.'

""It was our little joke after I got sick at school once. It—Aussies're **never** 'Chuck' and kids were teasing me with it, so he started calling me 'my little Chuck' so I'd feel better."" Sighs. ""I figured 'Charlie' was dead and I needed a new name, so."" Shrugs.

"That's a lovely story."

Chuck sniffs—was that a bit of a laugh?

"Woof!" barks a familiar voice across the field.

""He can come over.""

Mako waves Raleigh in.

Chuck sits up and away, runs his hands through his hair, making an utter mess of it.

She resists the urge to straighten it for him.

Raleigh bounds out of his fur and into his human shape, then over to them.

"You get the mess sorted?" prompts Chuck.

"Yep." Raleigh plops next to Mako, offers her—

"Is this me?" she asks, accepting the tiny, wooden Kai Ken.

"Uh, yea." Raleigh ducks his head. "We had to do something with the splinters we cleaned up, so I, uh, made a little Yūjin for you." 

"How sweet of ye," drawls Chuck.

Mako runs her finger along the little dog's back, over its curled tail. "She's lovely."

"So're—" Raleigh clears his throat. "Thanks. I'm happy with how she came out."

Mako tucks the model dog into her jacket pocket.

"You doing okay now, Chuck?"

"'m fine."

"Is Professor Hansen alright?"

"He's fine, just a little embarrassed about what he did to the door and the 'dragon'." Raleigh snickers. "He didn't **exactly** kill it—"

"You **can't** kill a boggart," scolds Chuck. "They're not alive to **be** killed."

Raleigh suppresses an eye-roll. " **Anyway** , he teleported it—and most of the door—to **Australia**."

Chuck blinks.

Raleigh grins. "At least, that's what he **thinks** he did."

"Someone's gonna be surprised," grumbles Chuck.

Mako snorks.

"Or disappointed the magically-appearing door won't lead to Narnia."

"Unless he fucked up and made it a portkey, too."

"Holy crap, Chuck, that would be the greatest stunt **ever**! Know of anyone who needs an adventure in a 'magical' wilderness?"

"Not right now, but—" Chuck heaves himself to his feet. "—I do know a couple someones who could use butterbeers on your tab." Offers Mako help up.

She accepts.

"Good thing I have a pocketful of Sickles, then," laughs Raleigh.

"Great. Let's go." Chuck tromps toward the gate, hands jammed in his pockets.

Mako and Raleigh set off in pursuit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [John Ong](https://www.flickr.com/photos/puck777/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/puck777/14687036778/).
> 
> Ugh. This one was a challenge. How much would Chuck remember? How much would he be willing to share? How would his memory distort events?
> 
> Never mind that I'm once again writing about something horrible happening to a goddamn _child_.
> 
> EDIT (2/8/17): Made some very important changes to Chuck's description of events after chatting a bit with Gotham.


	14. Slumber Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck, Mako, and Raleigh experiment with a method of keeping a transformed Chuck inside the Shrieking Shack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 25 May 2017  
> (0 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... so cold even the horses are wearing earmuffs and coats! ...

Mako watches Chuck as he gazes absently out the Shrieking Shack's picture window at the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

His eyes drift close.

"Stay awake," Mako commands, poking the side of his head.

He swats at her half-heartedly, grumps, "This staying up was a fuckin' stupid idea. I'm seein' fuckin' double."

"Think of how well you'll sleep tonight."

" **If** you let me."

"Of course we will and it's a **great** idea." Raleigh looks up from his reading. "This's a great book, too."

Chuck grunts. 

"How'd you find it?"

"Started—" Chuck yawns. "Started reading everything in the library written by a MacIver. They seem to know their shit 'bout dragons, no matter **what** my old man says about them."

"I'm gonna agree with you and this guy, 'coz this is **exactly** how you act. He even mentions the little snorty giggle thing you do when you sleep."

"I'll be sure t' mention that if I ever meet 'im. If I ever sleep again." Chuck yawns again, shakes his head viciously. "What time's it?"

"Twenty 'til."

"Thank the fuckin' Maker." Chuck fights with his shoelaces.

"You said you'd charmed your clothes."

"I **did**. Couldn't get permission for the shoes an' socks, though." Fumbles with his socks. "Fuckin' bean pushers."

"I think that's 'bean counters'."

"Fuck you, Ray."

"Language, Chuck."

He rolls his eyes, drags himself to the box next to the fireplace, roots about inside.

"What're you doing?"

He resurfaces, thrusts something hand-sized and fluffy at Mako. "Here."

"Where did you get these?" she demands, accepting them.

"Borrowed 'em from the Herbology storeroom."

"Are those mandrake-proof earmuffs?" squeaks Raleigh. "Do you have a pair for me?"

"Yea. And no."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"But—"

"Borrow yer own." Chuck shrugs. "Professor Longbottom likes me."

"But—!"

"Thank you, Chuck," says Mako.

He shrugs again. "Figure it's gonna be louder in here with the glass back."

"What about me?!"

"Time?"

"Oh for—one minute."

Chuck shivers. "Earmuffs, Mako."

She nods, clamps them over her ears, gives thumbs up at the utter silence.

He smiles weakly, gestures for her to turn around.

Mako shakes her head.

Chuck queries with a raised eyebrow and a frown.

"I won't look away this time," she declares.

Chuck shrugs, turns his back, and sits with his shoulders hunched.

Raleigh scootches over, presses against her side.

Mako sets her teeth.

Chuck changes texture, shudders.

If it weren't Chuck's body twisting and stretching and **changing** , the transformation ... it would be fascinating, something for the makers of monster movies to study.

Chuck flounders on his clawed paws.

Raleigh squeezes her hand and Mako slips into her brindle coat, _wuff_ s a greeting.

Chuck wobbles, stands on splayed legs.

Raleigh yips.

Chuck huffs, steps—

Mako and Raleigh dive between him and the window.

—shifts—

They move to block him.

—shoves—

They push back, muscle him away from the glass. 

—staggers, rumbles—

Mako licks his nose.

—relents, head drooping, and sighs.

She nuzzles his cheek.

Chuck **yawns** , shakes his head.

Mako yawns.

Chuck sniffs, sounding suspiciously satisfied.

Raleigh fights it, but he yawns, too.

Chuck yawns again, backs deeper into the room, flops down with his chin on the floorboards.

Mako worms her way under his skinny neck, curls up between his arms.

Raleigh whines, wiggles—

Chuck butts him away.

—whines harder, but tucks in against Chuck's side.

With another yawn, Mako arranges her paws as a pillow, rests her head on them— 

Chuck sighs, stretches his neck over her like a scaly canopy.

—closes her eyes.

They breathe together for twenty-one heartbeats.

A snorty giggly noise from Chuck.

Mako smiles internally, lets herself float off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Le Loup](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146863552@N04/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146863552@N04/31565750663/).
> 
> A spot 'o fluff that just wouldn't leave me alone.


	15. Pack Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako confronts a group of gossips disturbing hers and Chuck's reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 June 2017  
> (18 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... with another critter on my tail, I must be the best observed woman in the county ...

Chuck skims the shelves of the dragon section, wiggles loose something with 'MacIver' on the spine, frowns at _Good Fences, Good Neighbours: A Shepherd's Guide to Dealing with Dragons_. He shrugs, tucks it under his arm, wanders back to the worktable.

Mako looks up from her Herbology text, whispers, "What did you find?"

He offers a view of the cover, plunks into his chair.

She raises an eyebrow.

"It's gonna cover hunting behaviour, yea?"

"True," she concedes. "Shouldn't you be revising for the Muggle Studies exam?"

"If I don't know it by now, I'll never learn it in time." Cracks open Gormlaith MacIver's book to a reproduction watercolour of an irate granny chasing a small black dragon with broom and snorks.

"Hmm?"

"Look." Shows the page.

Mako smirks. "I'll have to remember that."

"Shovel's probably a better idea. Less flammable."

"The idea is to frighten, not hurt it."

"I dunno. I just can't see a broom getting the job done. Maybe it needs the granny to work right."

Mako snorts, goes back to her reading.

Chuck turns to the introduction, resets for 'dragonlore'.

Two tables over from the middle of a bunch of sixth year Ravenclaws, Owen hisses, just loud enough to be heard clearly, ""Did you see who's here?""

Chuck sets his teeth.

""Who?"" chirps Ellen.

""Hansen and Mori. **Together.** ""

Rolls his eyes and sighs.

""Ooo~!"" sings Anthony.

Molly scoffs, ""Of course they're together.""

Bailey adds, ""I don't even know why we're bothering to talk about this. They're old news.""

""They're **new** news again because she's an Animagus,"" says Niamh.

""Really?""

""Yea. It's probably why they hang out all the time.""

""Huh?""

""They can be dogs together,"" Niamh smugs.

Chuck growls.

""He's an Anima—""

""He's a **werewolf**.""

Controls a flinch.

""That's old news, too. He's not a werewolf.""

""But I thought that's why he's so good with magical creatures? One of their own?""

Mako nudges Chuck's ankle with her foot, queries.

""He **never** gets bitten or stung.""

Chuck huffs, tilts his head toward the chatterers.

""He's **not** a werewolf.""

""Then what do **you** think's wrong with him?""

""I dunno ... maybe it's leukemia and he's out so much 'coz of chemotherapy?""

Anthony scoffs.

""You have a **better** idea?""

""I think the rumour's true and he's a beast,"" declares Anthony.

Mako growls.

""Werewolves aren't beasts!""

Chuck kicks her foot under the table.

""Yes, they are.""

""The Guidelines—""

""Are bullshit. Werewolves are **beasts** wearing human suits, waiting for their chance to attack innocent—""

""But—""

""They should be rounded up and dumped on an island somewhere so they kill each other off.""

Mako pushes—

Chuck grabs her hand, pins it down, shakes his head, whispers, "They're not worth it."

""Lycanthropy's a **disease** , not a-a character flaw. If he **is** a werewolf, it's not like he can help it, yea?""

""If he's a werewolf, he was dumb enough to put himself in a place to be bitten.""

""He's only a third year, so you can't totally blame him for being stupid.""

""Except he's supposed to be some kinda genius.""

""Well, **he** clearly thinks he's a genius.""

""Too good for the rest of us.""

"'s'not hard to be smarter than you lot," grumbles Chuck.

Mako queries.

He waves it off.

""Look at all the evidence: the missed classes, the way dangerous things like him, the hanging around with a dog Animagus—""

""Does that mean they'd have puppies?""

""Oh my Merlin, Molly, that's so—""

""—his awful temper, why he doesn't live in the dorms with us anymore. Do I need to go on?""

""That's a lot of correlations ....""

""Well, we'll know for sure on Friday, right?""

Another scoff. ""Nothing'll happen on Friday. He **never** misses on the full moon.""

"Doesn't that mean he's **not** a werewolf?"

""He's a **southern** **hemisphere** werewolf,"" sniffs Niamh.

"Here we go," mutters Chuck.

""What does **that** mean?""

""It **means** he works backwards.""

Mako rolls her eyes.

""So he changes at sunrise?""

""He changes into a human at the full moon?""

"Seriously?" Chuck huffs.

""No, stupids. He changes at the new moon instead of the full one.""

The crowd digests that.

Chuck manages the first sentence of his book.

""What if he really **is** a werewolf?""

""He's **not**.""

""The Headmaster wouldn't let anything that dangerous close to us.""

""There are man-eating merpeople in the lake! Acromantulas in the Forest!""

""Those are **outside**! This'd be werewolf **in** **here**!""

Madam Pince bonks Anthony with her feather duster, setting off a storm of sneezes, hisses, ""This is a **library**! Keep your voices down.""

Mumbled apologies between sniffles.

Chuck and Mako snicker into their hands.

Madam Pince _hmph_ s, stomps off into the stacks.

Anthony checks Madam Pince is out of sight, says, ""The Headmaster probably lets him stay because his dad's a professor.""

Chuck grinds his teeth.

Murmurs of agreement.

Mako reaches across the table, squeezes Chuck's hand.

He drags his attention to her.

"Let's find someplace quieter to read."

Chuck grunts, gathers his things. "I need to stop and check this out."

Mako hums as she stacks her books in a neat pile.

They stand together and Chuck follows Mako—

She draws level with the gossipers, stops.

"Uh, hi?" quavers Ellen.

"Hello," says Mako, voice frigid. "You all would do well to remember dogs possess **excellent** hearing when you choose a place to gossip." She smiles, links her arm with Chuck's, marches toward Madam Pince's desk.

Chuck grins over his shoulder at the very grey faces, tosses them an "Arf, arf."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [Jonathan Gordon](https://www.flickr.com/photos/rocketbear/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/rocketbear/92875266/in/photolist-7Zv3ct-2NYU8j-9d1zG-5c2pQF-5c6S9o-5c6Ywb-5c2tbv-56oKTH).
> 
> Not 100% pleased with this one, but I can't seem to make it flow any better and I don't want to throw it away, so ... hopefully it's not _too_ bad.


	16. Care Package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanging out in the gardens, Raleigh gets some good news and treats from his brother, not that either does anything to improve Chuck's foul mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 June 2017  
> (14 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... so neat, I swear there are magic needles involved ...

Chuck looks up from the mistletoe and devil's snare cuttings he's twisting into a poppet, scoffs, "Are you **kidding**?"

"Cross my heart," declares Raleigh. "She really **did** say that."

"I was right." Chuck goes back to futzing with his project.

"About what?" asks Mako.

"Quidditch causes brain damage."

"Just 'cause your dad won't—"

" **I** don't—"

"" **There** you are!""

Raleigh hops to his feet, waving. "'ey! Yancy! How're you doing?"

"Aww— **oof!** "

"Behave," hisses Mako.

Chuck grumps.

" **Great** , but I've been looking all **over** for you." Yancy grins, offers a box. "Mémé sent us all something to celebrate our latest scores."

Raleigh accepts with a squee.

Mako peers around his side, asks Yancy, "You've passed your N.E.W.T.s then?"

"Four of 'em." He rocks on his heels. " **More** than enough for the job—"

"You got the job?!" squeals Raleigh, stuffing the box into Mako's hands.

"I got the job!" He hugs Raleigh clean off his feet. "Their owl arrived almost as soon as the results were posted."

"Which job'd that be?" asks Chuck.

Yancy drops Raleigh. "Ranger at the Swedish dragon reserve~!"

"So ... your job's to keep idiots from getting themselves killed," grumbles Chuck.

Yancy grins, big and bright, and laughs, "Yep!"

"Guess you're probably used to dealing with stupid people from that one, ay?"

"Chuck!"

"What?"

Yancy snorts, keeps smiling broadly as ever. "You know what's even better than the job, though?"

Raleigh's heart picks up a happy skip. "There's something **better**?"

"Yea! Now I can just forward you owls instead of asking, like, a hundred portraits where you or Jaz are."

Everyone but Yancy groans and Raleigh throws in an eye-roll for good measure.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tell Mémé to **not** put every pair of needles in the house to work on sweaters for me."

"But you'll need 'em!"

"Sweden's not **that** cold," sighs Yancy.

"You can sneeze on the Arctic Circle from the Reserve office!"

"Yeah, and we grew up in **Alaska** , dummy." Yancy bops Raleigh on the back of the head. "Later, folks~! And, Ray, don't forget to send Mémé a thank-you owl." He waves and saunters around the hedge and out of sight.

Raleigh sighs, shakes his head, plunks down.

Mako returns his box, sits next to him, ventures, "You never mentioned your brother was interested in dragons."

"I ... uh, well ...." Raleigh pokes around in the tissue paper. "We kinda have different ideas about how dragons work?"

"Lemme guess." Chuck doesn't look up from a second poppet. "You mentioned reading a MacIver book to him—"

"Yep."

"—and he thinks the MacIvers are fulla shit and you can't explain how you know they're not."

"Ex-actly," sighs Raleigh. "Oo!"

"What **now**?"

"Calisson d'Aix!" Raleigh offers one of the sweets to Mako. "It's sort of a melon-flavoured marzipan."

She nibbles, hums approval.

"Want one, Chuck?"

"Nah."

"Your loss." Raleigh stuffs a biscuit in his mouth, lets it melt on his tongue.

"This is very good. Thank you, Raleigh."

"'flelcum."

"Yer disgusting."

Raleigh swallows. "But I have calisson d'Aix and you're making **looove** charms."

Chuck's expression turns murderous. "A **what** you say now?"

"That's mistletoe." Raleigh puts on his smuggest grin. "So: Love. Charm."

"It's an **anti-werewolf** ward, you fu—"

Mako clears her throat.

Chuck huffs. "I'm gonna go get some wolfsbane to finish it off." Shoves to his feet.

"Want some help?"

"No." He stomps off around the devil's snare and out of sight.

They watch him go.

"Is it just me or has he been grumpier than usual lately?"

"It's not you." Mako toys with the abandoned poppet. "I ... I don't think he's looking forward to spending the holidays in Armagh."

"But he was just complaining about being stuck here all the time!"

"He's trading a comfortable prison for an unfamiliar one." Stands the little figure on the garden grass, adds, nearly under her breath. "He'll be sick alone."

Raleigh slumps. "I wish there was something we could do for him."

"We can send him owls and be there for him as soon as the next term starts."

"Yea ... I guess that's what we're stuck with."

"What're you stuck with?" Chuck, a fistful of purple flowers, drops into his place.

"You."

"Serves you right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [lobstah1977](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lobstah/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lobstah/3188653967).
> 
> Was chatting with artificiallifecreator and they convinced me that I needed to include a scene I'd tossed out because ... some really good reason, I'm sure. But! to make that happen, I needed to introduce Yancy, so here he is!


	17. Say It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the brink of the summer break, Mako attempts an important conversation with Chuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22 June 2017  
> (2 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... never seen a colour quite like it before, even though Mrs Vince says they're common ...

Chuck huddles on the edge of the dock, legs dangling above the rough surface of the Black Lake, shivering despite the bright sunshine.

"Are you feeling alright?" asks Mako, perched next to him.

"No." He chafes his arms. "It's gonna be bad this time."

"I wish I could—"

"'s alright. You've got a life."

Something splashes off to their left.

"Kelpie," she murmurs.

No response from Chuck.

"What are you thinking?"

He takes a deep breath, says, "If you want to go out with Becket, you'd better talk to him today before you leave."

Mako blinks rapidly. "What are you talking about?"

"Raleigh Becket. Prefect. Top of his year. You know, the bloke you **like**?"

Mako blinks some more. "You think I ...."

"It's **obvious**. He **obviously** likes you, too."

"Chuck, I ...."

"Just do something about it 'fore you miss your chance, yea?" He heaves himself to his feet, dusts off his trousers—

Mako twists, words caught in her throat.

—trudges toward the castle with his shoulders hunched and without looking back.

She turns to the water.

The giant squid lifts a tentacle from the shallows.

Mako waves—

The squid waves back, drifts farther along the shore.

—watches until it disappears behind a clump of bulrushes.

Another splash from the left.

She fills her lungs, stands, makes her way—slowly—to the castle.

The handful of people she passes offer warm greetings; her replies are absent, but polite.

Mako climbs into the Hufflepuff common room, straightens herself and her clothing, glances around.

Raleigh's curled around a book on the sofa beside the fireplace.

She pads over. "Raleigh?"

"'ey, Mako!" He sparkles—

Mako swallows, heart stuttering.

—sets aside his book. "What's up?"

"May I speak to you a moment?"

"Sure. Here?"

"My room, please."

"Uh, okaaay." Raleigh ruffles his hair. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. I just ... I only wish to talk to you."

"Cool. Lead on." He unfolds from the sofa, inclines his head.

Mako plods to her dorm with Raleigh at her heels.

She closes the door behind them, sits down on her bed.

He claims a desk chair.

Mako takes a very, **very** deep breath, says, "Do you like me?"

Raleigh turns bright pink, lowers his eyes, puts his hand on his nape. "Umm, yea? I like you a lot." Looks up through his lashes. "I hope—what—is it okay?"

Mako sags, shoulders following her heart toward her shoes.

"You don't feel the same."

She hangs her head, shakes it slowly.

"That's alright. We can be friends. I can be friends, if you're okay with that?"

Mako gives a watery smile. "I'm okay with being friends."

"Oh thank goodness I hadn't said anything because I was so scared you were gonna hate me and never want to talk to me again."

Mako's smile firms a bit. "Thank you for understanding."

"I **totally** understand. No thanks necessary."

Mako hums acknowledgment, studies her fingernails.

Raleigh drags his chair closer, says quietly, "Chuck, right?"

She startles. "What?"

"Chuck's the one you like."

"I don't ...."

"He's a pretty great guy, even with all the attitude."

Mako smiles.

"Kinda cute, too."

Mako bites her lip, nods.

"He should know how you feel."

She queries.

"He hates himself so much and's so **lonely** , he needs to know someone really, **really** likes him." Snorks. "I don't think he'd appreciate hearing it from me as much."

"You ...?"

"He's a pretty great guy under all the attitude and he's kinda cute?"

"You ...?"

"He acts totally straight and I'm, uh, not?"

"You approached him?"

"Didn't want to weird him out."

Mako frowns.

"I'll tell him after you do?"

"I think ... perhaps it would be wise to leave some time between our confessions."

"Yea ... good point." Raleigh grins. "You first."

Mako rolls her eyes, then her face falls. "Raleigh?"

"Hmm?"

"How should I tell him?"

"Maybe a gift?"

"What sort of gift?"

"Umm ... something small? And very **you**?"

Mako ponders.

"What about a plant? That's a big thing you have in common, right? You know them, they love him?"

"That is perfect!" She squeezes Raleigh around the middle. "I have exactly the thing."

"Of course you do." Playfully pushes her away. "So go get it!"

" _Hai_!" She spins and races to the gardens.

The _Camellia japonica_ yields a single red bloom to her Severing charm.

「Thank you.」 Mako bows.

The camellia bobs in the breeze.

She hustles back to the castle, along the halls to the faculty housing.

Mako squares her shoulders and knocks.

After a long beat, the door swings open.

"Uh, hi, Mako."

"Hello, Professor Hansen. Is Chuck in?"

"Yea ... but he said he was going to lie down for a bit."

"It's very important I speak with him."

Professor Hansen studies her face, then the flower in her hands. He shifts, beckons her inside. "His room's up the stairs, only door on the right."

"Thank you, sir."

"'welcome."

She climbs the stairs, halts outside the proper door. Knocks.

No response.

Pushes it open, calls, "Chuck?"

No answer.

She steps inside.

The room is bare of anything personal: nothing but standard furniture and textbooks and school supplies.

There are also no overt signs of life.

Blankets lump in the center of the mattress.

"Chuck?"

Blankets grump.

"May we speak?"

""Wanna share yer good news?""

"I've come to talk with you."

""Not in much've a talkin' mood.""

"It's important."

""So's my nap.""

Mako mentally counts down from five, then, "Chuck, please."

He gives a fantastic sigh, rolls over to face her, already a shade paler than he'd been at the lake.

She—

"Yea, I look like shit." He drags himself up to sitting. "Whad'ye want?"

"I thought about what you said earlier and I've realized something." She locks her eyes with his. "I—"

" **Don't** ," rasps Chuck, complexion greying to nearly the colour of the stone walls. A breathy noise, then, "Go talk to Ray."

"I already have."

He flinches—

"What—"

—snarls, "Well, talk to him again 'coz I've got **nothing** to say to you."

Mako cringes. "Please, Chuck—"

"'Please' **nothin'**. Get out."

"I—"

" **Get!** **Out!** I don't care what you want to say!"

Professor Hansen says, "Is everything alright in here?" from the doorway.

"She needs to **leave** ," growls Chuck.

Mako blinks fiercely at tears, resolutely not. crying.

Professor Hansen looks between them, inclines his head toward the opening. "He should get some sleep, Mako."

She finds her feet, wobbles over and out and down the stairs.

A hand on her shoulder, gentle.

She stops, turns.

"Sorry about him." Professor Hansen rubs the back of his head. "I don't think he meant to hurt you. He's just ...."

Mako sighs to the blossom cupped in her hands, says to Professor Hansen, "I'd like to leave this for him. May I borrow a glass and some water?"

"Yea. Over here." Professor Hansen leads her to a cabinet, takes down a glass, fills it from a pitcher, holds it out.

She balances it at the center, careful not to bruise any petals. Examines it, tweaks it **slightly** to the right, nods approval, and steps away.

Professor Hansen smiles. "If it's not too—" Clears his throat. "Why a flower?"

"It carries a message, or so my mother told me."

"Victorian language or ...?"

" _Hanakotoba_."

He nods. "I'll take this up to him."

"Thank you, sir." Mako edges toward the door. "I'll leave you to get ready."

"Oh, uh, right. Thanks. Have—" A nervous smile. "Enjoy your holidays."

"I will do my best, sir."

"We'll see you in the fall."

Mako bobs her head, opens the door. "Please give my best wishes to Chuck."

"Will do."

Mako bows, ducks into the corridor, closes up, and flees for her dorm before the tears can fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped and colors shifted from a photo by [juantiagues](https://www.flickr.com/photos/juantiagues/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/juantiagues/28248949313/).
> 
> The scene at lakeside is one of the first I found in writing this tale, but it's taken for _ever_ to find the rest of the chapter.
> 
> And, yea, Chuck is a such a _jerk_.


	18. Love Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A midnight snack leads to something like a conversation between Chuck and his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23 June 2017  
> (1 day 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... and as for Mrs Hughes, even her barn is pretty ...

Chuck grumbles at his sudden return to consciousness, listens for a reason.

Standard nighttime castle noises.

He cracks an eye.

Darkness.

Something new on the desk: a flower in a glass of water.

He huffs, sits up, muscles protesting.

"Fuck'm I awake?"

His stomach roars.

Chuck sighs, heaves himself out of bed and downstairs, then over to the snack cabinet. He digs around, eventually comes up with a packet of beef jerky, collects a glass of water, shuffles to his chair, and flops down.

He noms.

Drinks.

Gnaws.

Sips.

Footsteps on the stairs and then the Old Man shuffles in, croaks, "You alright?"

Chuck swallows. "Got hungry."

The Old Man grunts, pokes a couple of lights to life, wanders over to **his** chair, plunks down.

Chuck bites off another mouthful of jerky, chews.

Old Man yawns, scrubs a hand down his face.

"Fo ba' t' 'eep."

"Swallow."

Chuck rolls his eyes, but downs his food. "Go back to sleep."

"I, uh, kinda wanted to talk to you about this afternoon."

"What about it?" Chuck drops the empty package on the coffee table along with his glass.

"Mako."

Chuck shrugs. "She wanted to talk and I didn't, so I threw her out."

"What did she wanna talk about?"

"Stupid stuff."

"Chuck ...."

He crosses his arms, sulks into the cushions.

"Did you see the flower?"

"Yea. What about it?"

The Old Man sits forward, fiddles with his fucking ring. "She left it for you."

"Stop that."

"Wha?"

Chuck points with his chin.

Old Man jerks his hands apart, takes a deep breath. "She said it was a message."

"She say what it **meant**?"

"Didn't ask. Figured that was between the two of you."

Chuck sniffs.

Old Man goes back to the ring thing.

Chuck rolls his eyes, yanks the afghan from the back of the chair, bundles up.

"Should I start the fire?"

"Don't bother." Chuck pulls his feet close, gets them under cover.

A deep breath and the Old Man says, "So ... Mako's flower? I don't know _hanakotoba_ , but to Brits that one—"

" **You** speak flower?"

The Old Man rubs his neck, mumbles, "Was trying to impress a girl into being my date to the Yule Ball."

"Did it work?"

"If I'd asked a week sooner it would've."

Chuck snorts.

Old Man laughs a little. "Anyway, she gave you—"

"I know what it means already." Chuck huddles tighter.

"You sure about the fire?"

" **Yes.** "

Chuck's heart threatens to beat itself to death on his ribs in the quiet.

"Listen, it's—"

"I **know** , alright?! But I'm not gonna make the kinda mistake **you** did, ay?"

Old Man flinches.

"I got enough worries, don't ye think?"

A spark flares up in the Old Man's eyes. "I thought she was helping with a few of those."

"That doesn't mean I should let her create new ones," growls Chuck.

Old Man dims, rubs the back of his neck.

Chuck preens—shivers.

Old Man's on his feet and crossing the room. "I'm starting the fire."

"Don't bother. I'm done down here." He yawns, mutters, "I'm gonna need every minute 'a sleep I can get."

Old Man plops on the sofa. "How do you want to handle this one?"

Chuck sighs. "Dump me in the Forest and you run interference on the edges, 'case anyone's still around."

The Old Man grunts. "Luna's here another couple days, so she'll help."

Chuck pushes to his feet and thank the stars his equilibrium's intact. He keeps the afghan like it's a cape and plods for the stairs.

As he climbs, the Old Man turns out the lights behind them.

Chuck slouches into his room, past Mako's ~~love note~~ flower—stops, glowers.

Old Man's footsteps tromp up the stairs, pass Chuck's door and down the hall.

Chuck fishes his wand from under his pillow, draws a square around the camellia and its makeshift vase, commands, " _Maneo_."

The air and flower shimmer as the charm takes hold.

Chuck smiles, tucks himself between the sheets, and closes his eyes to wait for sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [melingo wagamama](https://www.flickr.com/photos/meepfriends/) [[CC BY-NC 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/meepfriends/2938346585/).
> 
> Chuck ....
> 
> Well, like father, like son, I guess.


	19. Better Than

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako confronts Chuck and they come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23 June 2017  
> (1 day 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... peacocks! The Hughes keep peacocks! It's all about colours ...

Mako knocks on the door to the Hansens' quarters.

Professor Hansen answers—"Miss Mori. You're still here."

"Yes." Mako bows. "Is Chuck here?"

"No, he's down with the plants." Rubs his neck. "He, uh, liked your flower."

Fury ignites in Mako's chest.

"Put a protection charm on it and everything."

Mako says calmly, "Thank you, Professor." Bows.

"Have a good day, Miss Mori."

"Thank you." Turns on her heel, clips down the hall, through the castle, out onto the lawn, strides to the greenhouses, and storms around the devil's snare hedge

"Mako! You're—"

"I am **not** a flower," snarls Mako.

Chuck snaps to his feet—"Of course you're not!"

"You may not treat me as you did and expect to make up for it by being kind to a plant."

"I'll treat your stupid present—"

Mako's blood boils.

"—however I want!"

"You have been **nothing** but hurtful the last few days and you continue to be and I want an apology."

He puffs up like a fugu. "Just 'coz you want one—"

" **Now** , Chuck."

"If I don't?"

"Apologise. **Now.** "

Chuck glares.

Mako glares back.

Chuck deflates, looks away. "I'm sorry for being an asshole to you yesterday." Deep breath. "You deserve better."

"That's right. I do."

Chuck snaps his head up, eyes fiery. "Which's why you should hang around Becket and not me, yea?"

Mako clenches her fists at her sides. "You are not starting this argument again."

"Well maybe we need to have it again!"

She steps so close their noses nearly touch. "Have you ever tasted mandrake leaf?"

"Wai—what?"

"It burns like raw _nigauri_ and I kept it under my tongue for a month to become an Animagus. If that's not enough of a sign of my commitment and loyalty for you, I doubt anything could be."

"You ever stop and think maybe I **want** to be alone?!"

Mako laughs.

Chuck flinches, holds his ground.

"You're a poor liar."

He grinds his teeth. "Fine. Whatever. Think what you want."

"I will, not that I require your permission." She steps back, gives Chuck some breathing space.

He shivers.

"Are you co—"

"I'm **sick** , if you hadn't noticed. I'm sick and I'm **tired** and I don't need **your** help."

"I will still offer it."

Chuck throws up his hands, whines, "Why won't you leave me alone?!"

"Because you don't want me to, not really."

"What makes you think that?"

"You kept the flower—" Crosses her arms. "—even though you told your father you know what it means."

"'m gonna kill him," mutters Chuck.

"No, you're not."

"Let me fantasize, yea?"

Mako snorts.

Chuck pokes the Devil's Snare, teases it around his fingers, lets it twine up his arm.

"I wonder something."

"What?"

"Why do you know what a red camellia means?"

"I kinda read up on _hanakotoba_ before ... you know, 'coz I was thinking of ...." Chuck turns a very spectacular pink, then grimaces. "Loosen up, you."

The tips of his fingers purple.

Mako reaches— 

Chuck shoots her a look, closes his eyes, loosens his posture, breathes deeply, evenly.

The vine relents, tucks itself among its kind.

Chuck sighs, slides out of its reach.

"I didn't know you felt that way."

"I didn't say."

"And when **I** said something you shouted and claimed not to care—"

"And I already apologised for being an asshole, yea? You want me to grovel 'r something?"

"I want you to give me an honest answer."

He rests a hand on his nape, eyes on his shoes. "Listen, whatever I feel—felt— **think** doesn't **matter**. Doesn't change what I am and that you deserve someone decent and **normal** , so take your love note and go back to Becket."

"I won't do that. It wouldn't be fair."

Chuck side-eyes her. 

"Raleigh's a good friend, but ...." Mako shrugs. "There's something important missing."

"So it's not enough he can be a dog on command; you need a **real** monster. Maybe you should look up a werewolf. Get yourself a little of both."

" _Flipendo_!"

Chuck slams against the greenhouse, slides to the ground, wheezing—

Mako slowly, deliberately, puts away the wand she didn't realize she'd drawn.

—scrambles to his feet—immediately crashes to the grass on all fours.

She breathes, concentrates on slowing her racing heart.

"What was that for?!"

"You will not speak to me like that!"

"Hit me with a Silencing charm if you don't like it!" Heaves himself up. "Oh that's right. You **can't**."

"Why are you doing this?" hisses Mako.

"I wanna get it through your head I'm not boyfriend material an' never will be." Puts his shoulders back. "Give me all the flowers you want, wait for years, and I'll **still** be a monster."

"You're **not** —"

"Should I give you a scar t' remind you? Kinda let my fingernails go this week." Chuck steps closer.

"Why are you doing this?!"

He moves even closer, eyes flashing, and shouts, "Because you deserve better than me, alright?!"

A cluster of hedge roses explodes into robins—

"Oi! Watch it!"

—and squawk into flight.

"Why'd you **do** that?!"

"You must've done it accidentally."

Chuck ruffles feathers from his hair, grumbles, "'spose I threw myself into the wall, too."

"No, that was my doing. I apologise for losing my temper."

"I deserved it," he sighs. "I'm an asshole."

"You were **acting** like one."

"Same difference."

"Do. not. start."

Chuck sighs, oozes to the ground, drags his hands over his face.

Mako sits beside him.

"Why're you still here?" he mumbles.

"Because I want to stand with you."

"I mean, 'why didn't you leave for London'?"

"I wanted an apology first."

"So you stayed to yell at me."

"I stayed to hear your response to my confession."

Chuck pulls his knees close, exhales a shaky breath.

Mako waits, her heart in her throat.

"I w-want to say 'yes', but ...."

"Please do."

So quietly she can barely hear: "I like-like you, Mako, and I'm glad you like me, too."

"Thank you," breathes Mako, heart soaring. She leans closer to Chuck, presses her lips to his cheek.

A flock of flitterbloom flowers become—

"What were those?"

Chuck, blushing crimson, squints at the retreating birds. "Think they're redstarts."

Mako laughs into her hand.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm thinking you'll either need to learn better control or to transfigure flowers into threatened species."

"Very funny," grumps Chuck, then he sighs—

Mako glows all over!

—and leans against her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Eelco](https://www.flickr.com/photos/eelcow/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/eelcow/6847763938/in/photostream/).
> 
> Big, big thanks to artificiallifecreator for _completely_ reworking the intro to this chapter. It makes all the difference to the flow of the story. It was also their suggestion that Mako needed to lose her temper with Chuck's poor treatment of her that made sure this chapter happened in the first place!


	20. Being Neighbourly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summering in Northern Ireland, Chuck chats with some of the neighbours and learns they have a bit in common.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28 June 2017  
> (4 days after transformation)  
> County Armagh, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

... finally found a mouse Bruce won't eat ...

Chuck, hands tucked behind his head, sprawls flat on his back in the sun on the grass in the house's front garden.

Little fluffy clouds scud across the blue sky and birds flit and chirp between the hedge and the trees.

Singing—

Singing?

—two voices singing nonsense words in harmony coming closer at a good clip.

The song and the sound of hoofbeats stop outside the gate.

A horse snorts; leather and wood creak.

""Good morning, lad!""

Chuck sits up, stretches his arms over his head. "'mornin', Mister Vince, Missus Vince."

The little old neighbours wave from the seat of a buggy pulled two short horses.

"Is your father about?" asks Mister Vince.

"He's in town for groceries. Should be back soonish, though."

"Goodness!" Missus Vince flutters. "He's **walking** all that way? He should've sent word and we'd 've given him a lift."

One of the horses—the darker one—puts its ears back and stamps a foot.

"He, uh, has a push bike." Chuck stands, brushes off his clothes, moves over to the gate post, leans against it. "Figure he'll be fine."

The Vinces laugh and Mister Vince snickers, "Ah, to be young and have the knees to pedal again!"

"Now, Martin, only this morning you scampered into the rafters after Mo just fine."

"That was pure adrenaline, Harri dearest. I was saving a damsel in distress."

Missus Vince pats his leg. "You keep telling yourself that, dearest."

Mister Vince sighs fondly.

Chuck's heart twitches a bit in his chest.

"Have any plans for this lovely summer day, Mister Hansen?"

Chuck shrugs. "Mostly lie around, maybe read a little."

"A perfect plan for the summer holidays, I say."

Chuck grunts, rubs the back of his neck. "You, uh, running errands in town?"

"That we are! Groceries and post and a spot 'a tea at a restaurant."

"Sounds nice."

"Aaand, speaking of post, looks like someone's about to have some."

"Wha?"

Mister Vince points with his chin.

Chuck turns—

Bruce makes his final approach to the house, small package dangling from his talons.

—clears his throat as he psyches himself up for a memory charm, says, "You, ah, know about owl post?"

"We've seen quite a few a few of them come and go over the years. Oddest thing—oof!"

Missus Vince winds up another punch. "Don't tease the poor lad." To Chuck, "I sent our Titus with a message for a friend in Omagh this very morning, so you needn't remember that charm."

Chuck exhales.

Bruce makes an awkward one-point landing on the gate, sticks out his leg.

"Got it, boy." Chuck takes the parcel, adds, "Think I heard some mice in the second shed this morning if you're hungry."

Bruce grumps.

"It's that or wait for the old man to get back from town." Chuck unties the string, tears off the brown paper—stuffs a squee.

"What did you get?" calls Missus Vince.

"Uh ...." Chuck clears his throat. "It's chocolate. From London."

"Chocolate? London?" She claps her hands. "Does this mean you have a **girlfriend**?"

Chuck's face heats and there's wild fluttering—

"You've got fieldfares in your hedge! Lovely!"

"Uh, yeaaa ... they pop up sometimes."

"'specially when you're thinking on your young lady, I suspect."

"Yea, mostly," mumbles Chuck.

Missus Vince giggles into her hands.

Mister Vince smiles reassurance, says, "When we have more time one day, I'll tell ye what first love did t' **my** magic, because—"

Bruce barks, puffs up into an angry feather duster.

The dark horse flicks its ears, reaches with its nose back toward Bruce—

"Taaffe! Leave the bleedin' bird alone!"

Horse snorts, sounding rather offended.

"None of that tone, sonny, or I'll put the curb back on ye and you'll have no fun t'all."

Taaffe definitely sulks.

The other horse sighs mightily.

Bruce huffs, heaves himself into the air, disappears around the side of the house.

"I told ye we should've gotten **horses** ," says Mister Vince. "These ponies are too smart for their own good."

Missus Vince rolls her eyes.

"You wouldn't happen to have some hard candies to distract this monster, would ye?"

"Uh, no. Sorry."

"Check your pockets, dearest." Missus Vince grins, touches the side of her nose.

Mister Vince fishes, comes up with a handful of wrapped sweets. "Would'ye look at that. The memory's the first thing to go, they say." To Chuck, "Would ye do me a favour and feed one 'a these to each of the boys?"

"Sure." Chuck balances Mako's chocolates on the hedge, slips out the gate, collects two butterscotches from Mister Vince, arranges them on his palms, offers them to the ponies.

They snorpf them up, crunch happily.

Chuck gives them each a pat between the ears, strolls back to his spot in the garden.

"What's your favourite flavour?"

"Peppermint."

"I do believe I saw one of those ... aha! Catch!"

Chuck plucks the sweet from the air—"Thanks."—unwraps it, pops it in his mouth.

"You've worked with ponies before, my boy?"

Chuck tucks the candy in his cheek. "Yea, there're a few at school. I get along with 'em pretty well."

"Can't say I'm surprised."

Chuck shifts the sweet back to his tongue, raises an eyebrow.

"It must be in your blood, seeing how popular your uncle is with the sheep."

Chuck snorts—claws at his throat—

" _Dhíscaoileadh candy_!"

—gasps for air, croaks, "Thanks."

"I should be more careful how I phrase things around teenagers, I s'pose?" snickers Mister Vince.

"Especially such an excitable lad, dearest."

"I'd 'preciate it," wheezes Chuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [Kevin Lam](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nivek_woods/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/nivek_woods/550442515/).
> 
> Turns out there are other wizards in the Hansens' neighborhood. Despite their tiny roles in this tale, Mr and Mrs Vince have quickly made homes in my little black heart, to the point where they're instigating big changes over my 'actual' _Pacific Rim_ universe.
> 
> Aaanyway, names! 'Harri' is, of course, short for 'Harriet'. Titus is the Vinces' sweet-tempered elderly barn owl ( _Tyto alba_ ). Taaffe, the too-smart-for-his-own-good pony, is named for the jump racing jockey [Pat Taaffe](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pat_Taaffe) and his long-suffering harnessmate is Dreaper, after [Tom Dreaper](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Dreaper), a trainer with whom the human Taaffe often worked.
> 
> Mrs Vince's life-saving spell is simply "dissolve" in Irish Gaelic.


	21. Taken Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's transformed behavior takes on a new, violent dimension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24 July 2017  
> (0 days after transformation)  
> County Armagh, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

... week, David Hughes is here with Halley the peregrine to take care of the hares ripping up the gardens and ...

Thunder rumbles outside.

Chuck watches rain stream down the window glass, surfs another wave of nausea, pulls the quilt more tightly around his shoulders, grumbles, "Stupid Irish weather. Stupid morning after. **Stu** pid side-along apparition."

""How're you—""

The Old Man's fear squeezes Chuck's throat—

He gags.

""Are you gonna—""

Again.

A pail swims into view.

Chuck retches.

Tumbler of water appears.

Chuck sips, spits, sips more.

" _Evanesco_." The Old Man sets the clean pail between them.

"Whadid I do—" Chuck clears his throat. "—'s got you scared?"

Stuttering.

"What."

"You—" Swallows. "You brought down a deer in the Forest—"

Chuck's stomach rolls again.

"—and ate it."

The rest of the 'meal' parts from Chuck's company.

" _Evanesco_."

The window rattles at a gust of wind.

"You couldn't stop me?"

"Happened too fast. One second, you're flying along, next you're all—you an' the thestrals—on the ground, mobbing it." He rubs the back of his neck. "I, uh, decided it was best to let you finish."

Chuck shudders, re-wraps himself.

"We have some ginger beer?"

"Later." Chuck sighs. "How mad's the Headmaster? 'bout the deer?"

"She's not. They're there for food anyway, so."

Chuck grunts, relieved a bit.

A whip-crack of thunder.

A **yowl** , followed by annoyed clicking.

"That Bruce?"

"Yea. He demanded 'in' when the weather went bad."

"Big baby."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

Chuck scoffs.

"He'll put dead mice in you shoes again."

Chuck wrinkles his nose, remembers the tiny bones snapping—

_under his feet with blood singing in his veins as he strikes_

—grabs the pail—

_somersaulting pinning the prey down tearing out its throat_

—heaves up bile—

_chirps and squawks of happiness and thanks from his skinny flight as they feed_

—chokes on the acid taste in his mouth.

"Here. Water."

Chuck takes it, swishes, spits—

" _Evanesco_."

—gulps more, even as his stomach protests, and comes up for air.

"Be right back." The Old Man leaves.

Another rumble and rain slaps the window.

Bruce makes a loud, grumpy sound.

Chuck closes his eyes, concentrates on breathing deeply through his nose.

""Ginger beer,"" announces the Old Man as he plonks on the chair beside the bed.

"Thanks."

The fizzy wipes out the flavour of sick and blood and Chuck sighs into the glass.

The Old Man plays with his goddamn ring.

Chuck takes a deep breath. "Did y'see it?"

"Uh, yea."

"Tell me."

"You sure?"

"Yea. Wanna make sure I really am remembering what It does and not just making shit up."

He hunches over, still fiddling with the ring. "Well, uh, you started with a slow circle, then made a crash dive, hit the stag—"

"Back feet, base of its skull, smashed it against the ground, flipped, snapped its neck ...."

The Old Man blinks, swallows hard. "Yea, exactly like that." Swallows again. "The thestrals flocked around and you all finished it off."

Chuck takes another mouthful of fizz.

A _fump_ and Bruce lands on the foot of Chuck's bed.

"Wha'do **you** want?"

Bruce fluffs, makes himself comfy between Chuck's feet.

"The gang's all here," snickers the Old Man.

Chuck rolls his eyes—mistake!—nabs the bucket, retches.

Bruce shrieks, ruffles himself into the air and from the room.

" _Evanesco_."

"Serves ye right, ye bird brain," rasps Chuck. "'m not a fuckin' pillow."

"Language."

"There's no one here!"

"'s a bad habit."

Chuck swallows a sigh with another gulp of ginger beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Didrik Johnck](https://www.flickr.com/photos/deetrak/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/deetrak/6583779955/in/photolist-6hY63V-aZLu7T-AQrW1u-BCo3Km-BkQ9CS-fEa7vj-2ri27u-9d21ki-aE87oa-bV7ogE-9d21nT-9d21hR-bV7owQ-b2MApv-RZRcY-aE87hX-aEbXyE-b2MARF).
> 
> dragon!Chuck's hunting style is cribbed from [the technique a golden eagle uses to kill deer](https://youtu.be/PdAKoRTA4ms).


	22. Bird Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck's birthday brings a parliament of owls and surfaces tensions in the extended Hansen family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 14 August 2017  
> (7 days 'til transformation)  
> County Armagh, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

... whole town's gone football (Gaelic, that is) mad ...

Chuck sighs into his palm, turns the page of _Arithmancy for the Quantum Era_ , cajoles his eyes into focusing on the words.

The bell beside the door jingles.

He looks to it.

A European eagle-owl glares at him through the glass.

Chuck stomps a bubble of excitement, strolls over, opens up. "Yea?"

" _oohu_." Owl nudges a rectangular parcel resting on the post shelf. " _oohu_."

"Thanks." Takes the package, closes—

" _oohu_!"

—turns back. "You're gonna wait for an answer, ay?"

" _oohu_."

Chuck huffs. "Lemme go get a pen and paper. Be right back."

" _oohu_."

He ducks inside, grabs his note-taking gear from the table, zips back, plunks down on the stoop, tears into the wrapping on the package, uncovering _The Desolation of Sanndraigh_ by Teàrlach MacIver, a couple of owl treats, and a note, which Chuck unfolds.

Dear Chuck,

Happy birthday!

Give Avion the treats and she'll stop giving you The Look™.

"" _oohu_!""

"Here." Chuck offers them on his flattened palm.

Avion grabs hold of his thumb with her talons, noms.

Chuck snorts, reads.

I spotted this in a bookshop on our way to visit my Mémé and thought of you right away. Hope you don't mind (too much) that I read it first.

Chuck rolls his eyes.

See you in a few weeks to compare notes!

Yours,  
Raleigh B.

"Well, isn't that nice of him," murmurs Chuck. He grabs his pen, scribbles a 'thank you', straps it to the owl's leg. "Take that back to Raleigh, please."

" _oohu_!" Avion throws herself into the air, flaps quickly out of sight.

Chuck sighs, straightens—

" _kyoot_!"

—locks eyes with a little brown scops owl wearing bright orange jesses perched on the shelf. "'ey, Phost. What's—oh, uh, thanks." Chuck accepts the tube-shaped package.

" _kyoot_!" Phost shoots off.

The text on the wrapping reads:

Happy birthday, Chuck! Please re-size to fit! —Fegan

"Oookaaay." He tears off the paper and shakes out a **tiny** orange Armagh GAA junior squad football jersey.

A **short-sleeved** jersey.

Chuck frowns at his covered arms, then squints at the bright morning sun. He pulls out his wand, taps the shirt, announces, " _Quantivaria_."

The top blooms to Chuck-sized.

He grins, tucks it under his arm next to the book, slips around to the back of the house, scampers up the rose trellis to the roof, then scuttles across it to the comfy spot beside the chimney. A quick yank has his top off—he nearly purrs at the touch of the sun on his skin, soothing at the aches which'd started last night—and he, grudgingly, pulls on the jersey. He lies back on the thatch, using the other shirt as a pillow.

Chuck closes his eyes and sighs, content.

"" ** _shhrreeeeeee_.** ""

Chuck starts awake, blinks rapidly at the barn owl peering down at him from the TV aerial. "Uh, hi?"

Titus bobs his head. " _shhrreeeee_."

Chuck sits up, follows the owl's gaze to a little pouch caught on the thatch, which he picks up, opens, upends, and shakes.

A note and three Galleons tumble out.

Happy birthday, lad! Treat yourself next time you're in the city.

—Martin and Harri Vince

Chuck grins, stuffs the coins and the note in a trouser pocket, jots a 'thank you' on a sheet of notepaper, rolls it up, and attaches it to Titus' leg. "Head back to your people, boy."

" _sshhrreeee_!" Titus stretches his wings, soars off.

Chuck allows himself a tiny squee, opens Raleigh's gift to the introduction.

Turns out Teàrlach's quite a writer and the pages fly by.

A _pop_ and a bit of skittering.

Chuck pries his eyes from the text, blinks at the ... rooster?!

Ten- _kun_ blinks at him.

"How'd you get here?"

" _plep-plep-plep_."

"You're a bloody **chicken** , mate, no way in Hell you flew!"

Ten- _kun_ serves up an offended glare.

Chuck rolls his eyes. "What're you sitting on, anyway?" Tugs the package from under the bird—

A parcel addressed in Mako's precise handwriting.

Chuck's heart skips, just a little, as he eases it open, uncovering a note on delicate pink paper.

Dear Chuck,

Happy birthday!

May this day find you in the sun and happy.

The vial is my first attempt at an anti-nausea potion. I hope it will help you; Obāsan swears by this formula and says I brewed it perfectly.

That may or may not help, but the other gift certainly will. ☺

Love,  
Mako ♥

Chuck paws through the tissue in the box, uncovers a vial of liquid the colour of pink lemonade and a box of Tim Tams.

His mouth waters at the sight of the sweets and he fumbles badly trying to tear into them.

" _plep-plep-plep_?"

"You can't have any."

Dejected coo from Ten- _kun_.

Chuck snorts, stuffs a cookie in his mouth, reads the postscript.

Please return Ten- _kun_ to the room in the picture.

—flips the note to see the taped-on photo of a neatly-kept front room.

"Aha! You were **teleported** here," Chuck smugs at the bird.

" _plep-plep_."

"You want to hang out a bit or go straight back?"

Ten- _kun_ ruffles himself comfortable on the thatch, closes his eyes.

"Cool, cool." Chuck bites into another Tim Tam, reopens the book, digs back into events in Outer Hebrides of the nineteen-thirties.

The writing's so evocative Chuck can **smell** smoldering ruins.

He jerks back to himself as his eyes burn.

Smoke puffs from the chimney.

"So much for a quiet day," Chuck sighs.

Motion in his peripheral.

Bruce glides by at shoulder level on a path to the cowshed—

"'ey! Bruce! C'mere!"

—banks, vanishes behind the building.

"Lazy bastard," grumps Chuck, turning back to his book and nabbing a third Tim Tam.

He's on chapter and biscuit four, when something tugs his sleeve.

"It time for you to go home?"

" _plep_."

"Gimme a moment." He writes—

Mako!

Thanks! These are great! I'm already halfway through the biscuits and will definitely try the potion afterward.

Can't wait to see you in a couple weeks.

Love,  
Chuck

—beckons Ten- _kun_ closer. 

He struts over, sticks out his leg.

Chuck attaches the note.

Ten- _kun_ puffs up, shakes his feathers into order.

Chuck takes out his wand, puts his shoulders back, fills his lungs. Soaks every detail of the picture into his mind. Divides his vision between the photo and Ten- _kun_ , points his wand, orders, " _Eo_."

A _pop_ and Ten- _kun_ 's spot is empty.

Chuck grunts satisfaction, tucks away his wand, turns a page, focuses—

Something flashes—

_crump_!

—slides—

—snags the skidding packets of Tim Tams with his fingertips before they can make their escape.

" _hoowuu_!" snickers the tawny owl who's landed beside Chuck's book.

"You're a proper little asshole, ay?"

" _hoowu_!"

"Don't be so proud, yea?"

" _hoowuuu_."

Chuck unties the bright blue ribbon holding the two packets of biscuits and a scrap of paper together.

Hey, kiddo,

I know it's not much of a gift, but I'm not much of an uncle, missing your birthday because of a girl, right?

Chuck snorts.

That said, I know you're crazy for these things, so don't you dare let your dad have any. He'll deny it, but he loves them, too. 

See you next week!

—Scott

" _hoowuu_!"

Chuck scrawls—

Thanks! They're good as gone.

—attaches the reply to the tawny smartass's leg, waves them off.

The owl takes a running start into the air, then heads roughly north.

Chuck shakes his head, noms another Tim Tam, tucks back into his reading.

Two chapters and the rest of the packet of biscuits later, a feathery head pokes into Chuck's line of sight, orange eyes wide, and a flat envelope in his beak.

"You, too?"

Zoidberg nods with enthusiasm.

Chuck plucks the envelope. "Thanks."

" _treemp_!"

Chuck opens—

A rustle, a joyful squeak, a crunch—

"Oi! Chocolate's—"

Zoidberg flings himself off the roof, Tim Tam in his beak, flaps madly away.

"—bad for you!" Chuck huffs, "Crazy bird," peers into the gift from the Hughes: a phoenix feather quill.

May this help you channel your brilliance onto the page.

Best regards,  
Verity, Willoughby, & Modesty Hughes

Chuck frowns, mumbles, "Who's Modesty? Haven't met a Modesty, have I?" He shrugs, makes a mental note to write the Hughes a 'thank you' with the new quill when he gets to his inkwell, eyes the next packet of Tim Tams.

""Chuck!"" hollers the Old Man.

"What!"

""The Hell're you?!""

"Roof!"

""Get down!""

"Why?"

""The cousins are here!""

Chuck rolls his eyes, gathers his things, wraps them in his spare shirt, scoots to the edge of the thatch, drops to the ground, straightens, dusts off his bum.

The Old Man double-takes his bare arms. "What're you—"

"They **know** , so what's the point hiding?"

"The kids **don't** and they **can't** 'coz they might talk."

Chuck crouches, empties the bundle, tugs the shirt over his head. "Happy?"

"Fix your collar."

Chuck frees the jersey collar, straightens the points, grumping.

"That's better," huffs the Old Man. "Where'd you get that kit, anyway?"

Chuck picks up the book, biscuits, and the rest. "Rory sent it."

Old Man grunts.

"He's not gonna stop with the football shit 'til I join the summer league or tell him **exactly** why I can't, ye know."

"I know," he sighs. "Did Bruce, uh, bring anything?"

"No, and he ignored me when I called."

The Old Man slumps.

"What?"

"Nothin'." Bobs his chin toward Chuck's cache of gifts. "Got a bit of a haul, ay?"

Chuck shrugs. "Little things from everyone in the neighbourhood, Mako, Raleigh, and Scott."

"Huh." Old Man turns away. "C'mon, Debra and hers are waiting inside."

A deep breath and Chuck follows him through the back door, stows his stuff on the nearest clear flat spot.

"Chuck!" shrieks Lucy, glomping onto his middle.

"Chuck!" echoes Ollie, limpeting onto his other side.

Chuck pat-pats their backs.

The kids kinda jerk themselves away, eye Chuck suspiciously.

He tries for 'no threat'.

They look sorta relieved.

Debra steps up, wraps him in a loose hug, backs off as soon as polite, says, "You're looking good! You've even got a tan!"

Chuck shrugs, tugs at his sleeve.

Debra's eyes flick to the spot and she doesn't quite control a shiver.

"'m not contagious," he mumbles.

She **does** shiver at that.

Craig jumps into the gap, offers a hand—

Chuck shakes.

—and a "You've grown a bit, yea?"

Another shrug and "Couple centimeters, probably."

"You'll be tall as your dad in no time."

"Maybe."

Ollie bounces on his toes. "This's the country, right?"

"Yea?" answers the Old Man.

"Are there any animals?"

For some reason, everyone looks to Chuck.

"We've only got Bruce and he's hiding, but I think the Vinces' sheep were down by the fence?"

"Show us show us show us!" Ollie grabs Chuck's hand—

"I'll tag along," offers Craig.

—drags him out the back door and down the garden hill to the fence-line.

The flock of black sheep've moved on up the hill, grazing with their backs turned.

Ollie heaves a spectacular sigh, climbs onto the fence anyway.

"Welcome to the country, kid," laughs Craig.

Chuck snorts.

"Oo! Kitty!"

"Mind you don't get scratched!"

Chuck does. not. cringe.

"Hello, kitty~!" coos Lucy.

The black and white cat perched on a fencepost headbutts Lucy's hand.

"What a sweetie~!" Lucy looks to Chuck as she scritches. "What's her name?"

"I think the Hughes call her Mo."

"Hello, Mo. Aren't you a pretty kitty? Yes you are!"

" _mrrowow_."

Chuck leans on the fence, listens to grass being munched.

"So ...," ventures Craig, sliding himself between Chuck and Ollie, "you liking the country life?"

"'s'alright, I guess."

"Gotta be boring here, compared to Sydney or Hogwarts."

"I manage."

"Chuck?" quavers Ollie.

"Yea?"

"What's wrong with that sheep?" Ollie points to one of the bigger woolies.

"Tricia's got an extra horn. Scott says it happens sometimes with this kind."

"That's really **weird**."

"How's a three-horned sheep any weirder than Danny Donnelly's pet clabbert?"

"Clabberts're **normal** magical creatures, Dad," scoffs Ollie. "A sheep like that's not normal, magically or Muggle-wise."

"Is that so?"

"Uh huh. **Everyone** knows that."

"Except your cousin Scott and that thing's owners, 'parently."

Chuck sets his teeth—

""Snacktime~!"" yells Debra.

The kids shoot off up the garden, Craig in immediate pursuit.

Chuck trails, nearly goes down when something furry contacts his shins.

" _prew_?" Mo weaves around his legs.

"Fuckin' cat. Sod off."

Mo flicks her tail, minces off toward the big tree on the property line.

Chuck jogs to catch up, determined not to let the anklebiters get all the food.

There's giggling in the front room from Debra and the kids; the Old Man and Craig are missing.

Chuck gathers his new stuff, trudges to his bedroom—past the closed guest room door—takes his sweet time stowing things and getting his temper on a leash. He rolls his shoulders, makes for from, tries **really** hard not to listen, but— 

""—have to police him, yea? He's no danger until ... you know. He even keeps his nails down to the quick so he can't accidentally scratch someone,"" pleads the Old Man.

Craig replies, ""Rationally, I know that, but I can't relax with something like—""

""He's still your little cousin; it's a sickness.""

""I **know** , but I'm not taking any chances. These're my **kids** we're—""

Chuck stops outside the door, clears his throat.

Dead silence.

He huffs, plods to the front room, helps himself to a can of lemonade and a handful of apple and cheese slices, sets to munching.

Kids and Debra do likewise, chattering about 'weird' sheep and nonsense.

Chuck keeps his mouth shut except to stuff in more calories.

"You eat a **lot** ," says Lucy.

"I'm growing," huffs Chuck.

"It's just how teenage boys are, sweetheart," adds Debra. "They suck up food like Hoovers."

Lucy giggles, "So Ollie's gonna eat like that, too, someday?"

"Yep!"

Craig saunters in, plunks down next to Debra—and between her and Chuck, of course.

Chuck doesn't roll his eyes.

The Old Man shows up with more apples and now some crisps, drops them on the coffee table, jaw working in that 'I'm not gonna kill this fucker' way—

Chuck stifles a little bubble of pride.

—claims his favourite chair next to the fire.

"Scott coming in for the celebrations?" asks Craig.

"He's on holiday with his girl."

"Figures. Always did fancy himself a ladies' man."

"Yea," shrugs the Old Man, "but he seems pretty serious about this one."

"He sent an owl this morning," puts in Chuck.

"Thoughtful."

"Where's he at?"

"Uh, Dornoch, was it?" The Old Man looks to—

Chuck nods.

"He'll be back next week."

"Just in time to miss us completely," drawls Debra.

Craig snickers, "Sounds almost like he's avoiding us."

"Can ye blame him?" mutters Chuck.

"What was that?"

The Old Man shoots Chuck a look.

"Nothing," he grumbles. "I, uh, think I left something outside. Be right back." Shoves to his feet and out the door, lets his feet lead him to the property line and the climbing tree, hauls himself up to his perch.

Mo the cat watches him suspiciously from the next branch over.

"What're you looking at, furball?"

Mo gives him nothing.

"Stupid cat," sighs Chuck. "Don't suppose you have any advice for dealing with asshole relatives, ay?"

She closes her eyes.

"Yea, wish I **could** just ignore 'em, but ...." Sits a little straighter. "Suppose I could just **leave** ...." He pictures the room he'd sent Ten- _kun_ to, squares—sighs, "Fuck it. I'll just splinch myself." Slouches against the trunk. "Might as well do something useful." He takes out his wand, centers himself, points to a cluster of dying leaves, pronounces. " _Anthus pratensis duo_."

A pair of meadow pipits form, tweet a 'thank you', and head off to be happy together.

Mo watches the action with interest.

" _Motacilla cinerea duo_."

Two grey wagtails.

" _Linaria flavirostris duo_."

Twites.

" _Saxicola rubetra du_ o."

Whinchats.

" _Emberiza citrinella duo_."

Yellowhammers.

" _Turdus torquatus duo_."

Three ring ouzels blink at him.

"Huh. Where'd you come from?"

Six beady little eyes gleam from cocked heads.

"Go on you." Shoos.

The trio flutter off to wherever new ring ouzels go.

Chuck tucks his wand under his arm, braces his chin in his hand, and sighs into his palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [Ellen Forsyth](https://www.flickr.com/photos/ellf/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/ellf/5629016253/in/photolist-9zqbqn-ty3Qg2-sXwACL-tuP8iN-bt5eRg-bQPGMk-89cKh6-bsYC8n-bt55Xa-bt5aY4-Mx3cf-bt59jP-5J3WyY-5J3VKE-bt5hED).
> 
> Something I never thought I'd be researching? The greeting calls of various species of owl. Yes, all those transcriptions are as accurate as I could make them. Seriously, the things I go through to write a semi-decent story. (For those keeping score, Avion is a Eurasian eagle-owl, Phost is a Eurasian scops owl, Titus is a barn owl, Ten- _kun_ is an onagadori chicken, Bruce is a long-eared owl, the asshole bird is tawny owl (he'll get a name in a chapter or two), and Zoidberg is a northern white-faced owl.)
> 
> Finally, I get to introduce the other branch of the Hansen family! Debra and Herc & Scott's paternal grandfathers are brothers. Debra, her kids, Herc, Chuck, and Scott are the sum total surviving descendants of the Hansens of Armagh. Should you wish a face to go with Debra's name, she strongly resembles Ruth Negga (her Hansen grandfather married an immigrant to Northern Ireland from Ethiopia).
> 
> All of the birds Chuck creates at the end are on Ireland's list of locally threatened species.


	23. Family Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit from Uncle Scott and his girlfriend brings Chuck some unexpected information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23 August 2017  
> (2 days after transformation)  
> County Armagh, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

... taking some time to explore the area and found a cafe that serves portions big enough for you just off Market Street, right around the corner ...

Chuck wobbles awake and blinks at the ceiling.

Laughter from down the hall.

A **woman's** laughter.

Chuck throws himself out of bed,  but his balance is fucked and his bones are missing and the floor rushes up to meet his face.

The Old Man says from the doorway, "I heard—" A sigh then, closer, "Let's get you—"

"I can do it!" snaps Chuck.

Old Man backs off.

Chuck heaves himself to sitting and sways there, glaring.

Old Man looks away, says, "Was just about to start making breakkie. You feeling up to food?"

Chuck interrogates his stomach. "Maybe some toast."

"I'll get it started." Stands—

""Everything alright?"" hollers Scott.

"Yea!" answers the Old Man. "I'll be right back!"

"His girl's here?" asks Chuck.

"Yea. I mentioned she was gonna tag along?"

Chuck eases to his feet, manages the upright thing. "Gimme a jumper."

Old Man—

"Please."

—comes back from the wardrobe, offers—

Chuck accepts. "Thanks."

—hovers. "'welcome." Rubs his neck. "I'll, uh ...."

"Go toast," mumbles Chuck through wool. "I'll manage on my own."

Old Man grunts, shuffles off.

Chuck settles his clothes, leans against the bed to get his strength and equilibrium sorted, pushes off for the dining room, shuffles his way there.

"'ey, Chuck!" greets Scott, waving the hand not resting on the shoulder of a **tiny** woman with hair redder than any of theirs.

Chuck grunts, folds into a chair across the table. "You're the girlfriend, yea?"

The Old Man makes a strangled noise, almost drops toast in Chuck's lap.

"I suppose I am," she drawls.

"Chuck, this's Fella, my—"

" **Partner.** "

"—partner."

Chuck pokes his toast. "You're not what I was expecting."

"Figured on something less elfin and more harpy, yea?"

"Uh, kinda?"

"Chuck!"

Scott doubles over laughing.

Fella grins, waves it all off. "I like my boys honest."

"Which explains how she puts up with me."

"Indeed it does." She sips from a glass of orange juice, wrinkles her nose.

"Something wrong?" asks the Old Man.

"I miss coffee," she sighs, " **and** tea."

_tunk-tunk-tunk!_

Everyone looks to the door.

Bruce, a dead thing in his beak, peers in.

Scott snorks.

"Great. Another 'gift'."

"Looks like he nabbed you a mouse this time, since you didn't like the vole so well."

"Th' Hell's going on?" grumbles Chuck.

"Bruce's trying to make sure she eats right, we think," explains Scott, patting Fella's stomach.

She smacks his hand away.

 _tunk_. _tunk._ _tunk._

Chuck makes a face.

"I'm with you, kid. Raw rodent ain't my pleasure."

Something niggles at Chuck's groggy brain.

"'course, at least he's not droppin' 'em down my shirt like Luath used to."

"Live or dead?"

"Depended on his mood."

Scott laughs, even the Old Man cracks a smile.

Chuck sits straighter. "You're a witch?"

"Yea, but not **that** kind." Fella grins. "My little brother got a tawny when he started his teaching job and the li'l feathered fucker decided it would be funny to include his own 'deliveries' with the post."

"What's your brother teach?"

"Astronomy."

Chuck blinks, confused. "But—"

"He works at a Muggle uni?" asks the Old Man.

"Nah, at—" and she burrs some Scottish-sounding tongue-twister which leaves the Old Man blinking hard.

Scott says, "Herc, I know what—"

"There's another school for wizards in Scotland?" blurts Chuck.

"Yea," says Fella, looking dead at the Old Man, "yours just tries to forget it exists."

Chuck queries the Old Man.

He glares at Scott.

Chuck turns to **him**.

"Listen, I know what Mum said about the Scottish School—"

"What'd she say?" prompts Chuck.

"They train **cowards** ," sneers the Old Man.

Scott rolls his eyes. "You're **still** on that?"

"Yea, they **totally** do," growls Fella. "Which's why what the Death Eaters left of Ailsa McTavish and Beathan McEwan is buried beside the path to the dorm."

"How do **you** know—"

"They were still there—no surprise, seeing they fuckin' **died** **fighting** —when we visited last week and—'fore you ask—I knew 'em when all their atoms were still in this reality."

Old Man glowers at her.

"While we're on the topic, you ever ask your neighbours what **they** did?"

"They stood by—"

"Outside the School, Herc."

"Wha?"

"Will and Verity rounded up every underage Muggle-born wizard in Northern Ireland, got them to the School, and stood guard. Martin and Harri ran Death Eaters looking for 'em in circles the entire fuckin' war. **Both** wars, actually."

The Old Man makes like a fish—

"Every one of those kids lived and came back to their parents."

—closes his mouth with a snap, shoves to his feet, stomps out the door, and slams it behind.

Chuck turns back to Scott. "Th' fuck?"

He sighs, ruffles the hair on the back of his head. "Our mum—your granny—never forgive the Vinces and Hughes for not going to the front lines to fight. She got it in her head that if they'd been there, your gramps would've lived and never let go of the idea." A weak smile. "I guess your dad still believes what she told him."

"Why don't you?"

"'cause Ailsa McTavish saved my reckless ass fighting more times than I want to think about."

"I suspect it was 'coz she thought you were good looking."

"Actually, it's 'coz McEwan told her he'd throw her out on her ear if she let my reckless ass die."

Fella laughs. "That sounds like them. And you."

Chuck nibbles toast.

Fella leans across the table, eyes mischievous. "'fore your spoilsport dad comes back, there's something else you should know 'bout—" The tongue-twister again. "—they actually **want** were-people to study there."

Chuck drops his toast, chilled to the bone, and whirls on Scott. "Wha'did you tell her?!"

"He said **nothin'**. You've got eyeshine, sonny-boy, **and** ye look like someone's been bent outta human shape pretty recently."

Chuck slumps back, swallows the lump in his throat.

"She's right, Chuck. They have free Wolfsbane potion for the werewolves, pain potions for everyone, counseling, tutoring to make up the missed days, the whole works."

"I'm not leaving Hogwarts." Crosses his arms.

Scott gestures for calm. "I know. Just wanted to make sure you know it's not the only school in these parts."

Chuck huffs.

 _ **tunk.**_ _**tunk.**_ _**tunk.**_

"I do believe that's a **hare** ," snickers Scott.

"Oh fer fuck's—I don't want your bloody presents, ye crazy feathered hellbeast!" yells Fella.

Chuck smiles, reclaims his breakkie, gnaws off another bit.

The Old Man grumps back in, locks eyes with Scott.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Anyone wanna tell me why there's a **pile** of dead things on my post shelf?"

Scott breaks out in a slow smile. "Like I said, Bruce's trying to make sure Fella eats right. She's gotta keep her iron levels up, ye know."

Old Man's eyebrow rises.

"My nutrition's important 'coz your brother got me up the duff."

"Because you asked me to, sweetheart."

Chuck strips mental gears.

"Wha?" squeaks the Old Man.

Scott howls, "The looks on yer faces!", nearly tips off his chair.

Fella smirks at the Old Man. "You're a bit old and **experienced** —" Bobs her head toward Chuck. "—to need it explained, ain't ye?"

"But—"

"I'm settlin' for 'good enough' before my ovaries pack it in."

Scott rolls his eyes. "Thanks, **dear**."

"You're welcome, **dear**."

They giggle at some inside joke.

Like how the Old Man and ....

Chuck shoves to his feet—

"Where're you going?"

"Bed."

"Sweet dreams, kid~!"

Chuck makes it to his bedroom, goes starfish on the mattress, mumbles "The fuck just happened?", and's out instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped and straightened from an original by [Robin Kirk](https://www.flickr.com/photos/rightsatduke/) [[CC BY 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/rightsatduke/4596100666/in/photolist-jgZ9B-jgZ9C-aeNoJy-819doy-81641v-aeKAkv-aeNpy1-jgZ9D-8164bg-819dAW).


	24. House Specialties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako, Raleigh, and Chuck reunite at King's Cross after the summer holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 September 2017  
> (20 days 'til transformation)  
> King's Cross, London, England, United Kingdom

... place of honour with your gran's trophy ...

Mako cranes her neck—

"He'll be here," assures Raleigh.

"I know, but ...." She chews her lip.

"I still can't believe you couldn't visit him all break."

"You couldn't, either."

"True, but—" He offers a crooked smile. "—it's not **quite** the same for me and him as **you** and him."

Mako sighs, "At least we could exchange post."

"Yea, there's that." Raleigh shrugs. "But what's the point of connecting to the Floo Network if you won't let folks **use** it?"

"Professor Hansen is very worried for Chuck's safety," Mako recites. She shifts her feet, checks again for sight of him. "I'm happy he was allowed to spend most of the summer away from Hogwarts."

Raleigh cringes a little. "He **did** seem to like the country, even though he sounded kinda lonely."

"What he said about the neighbours made them sound friendly." Peers about. "Kind, as well."

"It's too bad—"

"Of course it is, but he promised his father and we promised him."

"Well," sighs Raleigh, "at least now we can see him pretty much whenever we want."

Mako smiles.

A burst of activity near the entrance: a picture-postcard family of brunets and a flash of coppery—

"Chuck!"

""Watch—!""

""Look—!""

" **Oi!** " Chuck stumbles backward from the force of her hug, but keeps them on their feet and squishes back. "Good t'see ye again," he mumbles against her ear.

"Same," croaks Mako.

"Can I cut—"

"No."

Raleigh huffs.

Someone else clears their throat.

Chuck tenses in her arms, then takes a deep breath, pulls away, and squares up, resettling his rucksack. "Mako, Raleigh, these're my cousins, Debra—"

The brunet woman just behind Chuck smiles.

"—Lucy—"

The First Year girl waves.

"—Ollie—"

The little boy grins.

"—and Craig."

The man bobs his head and his eyes lock onto Raleigh's prefect pin. "These're your friends."

"Yea."

"We're pleased to meet you. Chuck's told us a bit," says Debra.

Raleigh shifts, sliding into his 'teacher's pet' act, nearly as fluffy and friendly as Plasma. "All good, I hope?"

Debra laughs, assures, "All good. If you'll excuse us, we have a **mountain** of stuff to get arranged." She gestures toward a stacked luggage trolley topped with a rufous screech owl in a little brass cage.

"Would you like some help?" asks Raleigh.

"We've got it handled, thanks," replies Craig and the whole family shuffles off toward the porters in Hogwarts livery.

Chuck lets his shoulders drop.

Raleigh nods toward Chuck's rucksack. "So ... where's the rest of your stuff?"

"Already at Hogwarts with my old man. All I've got with me's my wand, three Galleons, and some snacks from Martin and Harri." Chuck shrugs.

"Snacks?"

"Hungry already, Ray?"

Raleigh shrugs. "I'm growing." Pats Chuck's—

Chuck smacks at his hand away from his hair.

—laughs. "You'll probably catch up someday. Anyway, what sorta snacks?"

"Pasties. Belfast-style."

"Huh?"

"Fried, not baked."

Raleigh's eyes get big and eager. "I've never had those before."

"I'll save you a bit."

"Thank you~!" Raleigh grins.

Chuck looks away, mumbles what might be 'you're welcome'.

Mako nudges his foot with hers. "You look good."

"Uh, thanks?" He clears his throat. "Think the extra sunshine helped."

"The countryside certainly seems to agree with you."

Chuck tosses a look at his cousins. "Unlike some things."

"Couldn't help but notice some, um, tension?"

"Brilliant observation, Becket. They can just **barely** stand me."

"Because of something you did?"

Chuck gives Raleigh a Look.

"You have to admit—"

"Don't piss me off, Ray."

Raleigh snorks.

Mako smiles.

"So ... yea, anyway—" Chuck scuffs a foot. "—can we, um, share a compartment?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't we?"

"I don't ...." He takes a deep breath. "I sorta had to promise Debra and Craig that one or both of you would be with Lucy and me the whole trip—" He voice drops to a growl. "—or they we gonna apparate me to the station."

"And leave Lucy on her own?"

"I don't understand," says Mako, heart sinking.

"They're **scared** of her being alone with me." Chuck looks to Raleigh. "Probably be happiest if **you** stuck around, seeing as **you're** the prefect."

Contempt drips off that last word: so much of it that Mako winces.

Raleigh ducks his head. "I'm supposed to sit with the other prefects up front, but ... they can wait for me until everybody gets settled in."

"Thanks," murmurs Chuck.

"'least I can do," reassures Raleigh.

A call goes up and the crowd presses toward the train.

"Let's get this over with." Chuck forces a path across the tide to Lucy and her parents.

She bounces on her toes; Craig nearly has to pry Debra's fingers from her sleeve.

Lucy darts into the nearest car, dragging Chuck behind.

"Are you excited about starting at Hogwarts?" calls Raleigh.

Lucy slows the barest bit. " **Definitely**! I won't have to **hide** what I am anymore and I'll meet more people like me and it'll be so great!"

The line of Chuck's shoulders goes tight.

"You hoping for any House in particular?"

"Mhmm! Ravenclaw!" Lucy smiles over her shoulder at them. "Hansens and Hanlons are **always** Ravenclaws."

"But, Chuck, isn't your—"

"'Always except for my old man, my uncle, and their dad: they got Sorted Gryffindor."

Lucy laughs.

"What's funny?"

"The family portraits were so **relieved** when Chuck made it into Ravenclaw."

Chuck grunts, digs in his heels, steers Lucy into an empty compartment, claims a window seat, tucks his bag between his feet.

Mako slides in beside him, arm brushing his.

He doesn't seem to notice: his eyes focus on the crowd on the platform.

Raleigh folds himself in across from Chuck.

Lucy stops hovering, drops her rucksack on the floor, takes the spot next to him, nearly vibrating with excitement.

Mako shuts the compartment door as the train jerks, then glides into motion.

Lucy squeals, flutters.

"It's so sad," says Raleigh, fighting a grin and nudging Lucy with an elbow, "but next year this'll be old hat for you."

"Never! I've been waiting for this my **whole** **life**."

Chuck keeps staring out the window.

Raleigh teases, "You sound like you might already know a few spells."

Lucy preens, digs a rather short wand from her rucksack, intones, " _Lumos_."

The tip of her wand glows white.

"Cool!" cheers Raleigh.

"Very well done," adds Mako, kicking Chuck's foot.

"Good job," he mumbles.

"Thank you~! _Nox_!"

The light winks out.

Lucy kisses her wand, cradles it to her chest.

"That's a really pretty wood. I don't think I've ever seen it before?"

" _Alnus incana_ ," says Mako, quiet.

Lucy raises an eyebrow. "Mr Ollivander said it was alder."

Mako smiles (trying very hard not to smirk). "So did I."

Chuck side-eyes her, but his lips twitch up.

"Oh, uh ...."

"Mako can tell tree species by looking at the colour and grain of wood," explains Raleigh.

"Really?"

Mako nods.

"So ... I should ask you for help with Herbology?"

"Actually, you would do better to ask Chuck. I may be able to identify wood, but I have trouble convincing it to grow." Mako grimaces.

Chuck rolls his eyes. "You do fine."

"You do **better**."

He shrugs.

"What's your specialty, then?"

"Potions."

"And dueling," chorus Raleigh and Chuck.

Lucy blinks at them.

"She's Hufflepuff's leading scorer."

"Kicks **both** our butts. A **lot** ," adds Raleigh.

"O-okay." Lucy looks to Chuck. "So, I ask you about Herbology and ...."

"Becket's the guy to ask for Transfiguration help."

Lucy sparkles at Raleigh. "Can you change hair colour like that boy on the platform kept doing?"

He laughs. "Not **quite**. Teddy does it without **thinking** , really. I need a wand, like this." Aims at his head. " _Colorvaria_."

His hair turns an eye-watering chartreuse.

"Whoa," breathes Lucy.

"If you think **that's** cool—" Leans over, whispers something in Lucy's ear.

She whispers back.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," mumbles Chuck.

Mako elbows him.

Chuck sighs, goes back to watching the world outside the glass.

"Ready?"

"Ready~!" sings Lucy.

" _Colorvaria_!"

Lucy's dark hair turns a perfect Ravenclaw blue and sprouts bronze tips.

"How do I look?"

"Great!" declares Raleigh.

"It's lovely," agrees Mako.

Chuck shrugs.

"Your turn~!" Raleigh points—

"Wait! What—"

—at Mako, orders, " _Colorvaria_ —"

She looks at her reflection in the window—

"—and _Colorvaria_!"

—just in time to see Chuck's hair shift to a blue-black ... like hers **used** to be.

Mako and Chuck turn together, glower at Raleigh.

He bites his lip against laughter and Lucy's doubled over and absolutely /howling.

"Put. it. back," spits Chuck.

"I dunno—" Raleigh giggles. "—I think the dark really makes your eyes stand out." Nudges Lucy. "Whad'ye think?"

Lucy, wiping away tears, nods. "Ginger's pretty on you, Mako, too."

"No, 's'not," mumbles Chuck.

Mako flinches.

"It, um, washes you out." He offers Mako a weak smile. "You look sick with it like that. Kinda green."

Mako's head fizzes, warm.

"So turn it back, Becket."

"Fiiine." He flicks his wand. " _Colovaria_."

Mako scalps tickles with charmwork and her reflection returns to something more typical.

"Thank you."

"'welcome. Chuck?"

"Fix. it."

"You're no fun. _Colorvaria_ ," sighs Raleigh.

Chuck is ginger again.

"What about yours?" prompts Lucy.

"Oh, riiight~!" Pokes himself in the temple. " _Colovaria_."

Raleigh's familiar blond returns.

Lucy sits straighter, bounces in place. "Anyone want sweets? Mum gave me some money!"

"Sure."

"You don't have to—"

"But I **want** to!"

"I'll walk with you," offers Raleigh, standing. "I have a meeting up near the front I **probably** shouldn't miss."

"But you'll come back, right?"

"Soon as I can," he reassures.

"Great! Let's go!" She grabs Raleigh's hand, flings open the door, drags—

"'bye!" he squeaks.

—him out into the corridor, leaving the door wide open behind them.

"An' she's s'posed to be the one with **manners** ," grumps Chuck, pushing to his feet, and moving to the door.

""So High-and-Mighty Hansen's traveling with us mortals this year,"" says a smug-sounding Owen Cooper.

""You think he'll lower himself to join the feast, too?"" sniffs Niamh Rose.

""We'll have to wait and see, I suppose.""

Chuck puts his shoulders back, leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You want an answer or do you just wanna hear yourselves talk?"

""Let's hear it, Hansen. What did you have going on last year that was more important than welcoming the First Years?""

Chunk straightens, yanks—

Mako lunges—

—fends her off with one hand, pulls up the hems of his jumper and shirt with the other. " **That's** what I was doing."

—digs ( _wand_ _wand_ _**wand!**_ ) in her bag, gathers—

Owen stammers, ""Got into your dad's razors?""

"More like got jumped by a—"

—aims, yells, " _Silencio_!"

Chuck clutches at his throat, whirls on Mako, eyes green and blazing.

"You promised you wouldn't," she hisses.

""Ooo~! Trouble's a brewin'~!""

Chuck's fury rattles nearby fixtures.

""We should probably leave them to their little domestic.""

"" **Definitely.** Wouldn't want to get caught in the crossfire.""

Owen and Niamh's laughter recedes.

Chuck slams the door, then waits, tapping his foot with annoyance.

" _Finite_ ," commands Mako.

Chuck yelps, "Wha'did ye do **that** for?!"

"You were about to get yourself expelled."

"I was gonna tell 'em it was acromantulas, fer fu—"

"Which would have those idiots heading into the Forest to prove themselves—" Folds her arms. "—and where'd they'd likely be hurt or killed."

Chuck blinks and the fire drains out of him. "I—" Huffs. "I wasn't thinking and I'm so **sick** and **tired** of hiding. I wanna be **normal** again." He oozes down onto the cushions, mumbles, "I could go around outside in **short** **sleeves** , Mako. Feel sunshine. Not fuckin' worry about anyone noticing. I was **this** close—" Holds his thumb and forefinger less than an inch part. "—to feeling normal again."

Mako chews her lip, sits, presses against his side.

Chuck picks at his jumper cuff.

"Maybe the Sashas will have something for you soon," she offers quietly.

"It's been six months since we heard from 'em. Think they've given up."

"I don't think you can be a dragonologist if you give up after six months."

"Maybe." He takes a deep breath, finally meets her eyes. "But, right now, it's **really** hard to want to stay on this train all the way back to Hogwarts."

Mako swallows, rasps, "But what would you do instead?"

"Let the neighbours and Scott teach me at home, maybe?" He shrugs. "Or maybe just be a shepherd?"

"You've fallen for the sheep, too?"

"They **are** pretty cute."

Mako frowns.

Chuck rests his head against hers. "But not nearly cute as you, so I'll stick it out."

"I'm pleased I still outrank the sheep—" She nestles closer, but digs her elbow into his side. "—but that was a poor compliment if it was meant as one."

"Oh, uh, right." He shifts. "I really, **really** missed you and I want to stay close as long as I can."

"That's better and I feel the same."

"Sweet," sighs Chuck.

Mako closes her eyes, listens to their heartbeats, mingling with the rumble of the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image cropped from a photo by [Sarah Joy](https://www.flickr.com/photos/joybot/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/joybot/5900220791/).
> 
> I'm not happy with how Debra and Craig come off in this tale, overall. The situation here with Chuck, which pits their desire to protect their kids from anything harmful and their general kindness and good-nature against each other, paints them in one of the worst lights I can think of. In my main (ANSK) universe, they are very sympathetic and go out of their way to _help_ Chuck after Angela's death. They're good people I've put in an extremely difficult situation and, well, they're dealing with it as best they can, given their personalities and the social milieu in which they were raised and exist within.
> 
> Yup, that's Teddy Lupin Lucy's spotted on the platform. Lucy's a member of the same Hogwarts class as Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, and Rose Granger-Weasley, though she'll be in a different House from any of them.


	25. Dragon Whisperer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck charms dragons—and his Care of Magical Creatures professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 September 2017  
> (17 days 'til transformation)  
> Hogwarts, Scotland, United Kingdom

... pretty easy to tell I was in the right place ...

"I have a treat for you lucky ones today!" sings Hagrid, setting a peeping and hissing basket on the classroom's head table.

"Is it **dragons**?" mocks Cameron.

"It's dragons~!"

"Of course it's dragons," mutters Liv. "It's always dragons on the first day of fourth year."

Hagrid tilts the basket.

A dozen bitty creatures tumble out and toddle across the surface.

About half the class coos, even as most keep their distance from the tiny needle-teeth.

"Mind yer fingers! They bite."

"Of **course** they bite."

"Are these **real** baby dragons?" worries Gail.

"Nah, they're just transfigured teacups from the kitchen, but their behaviour's one-hundred-percent accurate," Hagrid assures.

Chuck rolls his eyes, crosses his arms on the tabletop, cushions his head on them.

"You'll get chomped, Hansen."

He half-closes his eyes, uses his peripheral vision to watch the creatures. "Not a threat to 'em so they won't bother me."

"You're twenty times their size. Just **breathing** is threatening."

"Now, now," chides Hagrid. "Chuck there has the right idea. Dragons are a lot like really big cats an' dogs. Keep yerself soft, don't hold eye contact, move slow around 'em an' ye should be fine."

Grumbling as Chuck lets his eyes drift shut.

""How many of you've done the reading?""

Rustling as hands wander into the air.

""Most of you. Good, good. So ... I'll point to a dragon and you sing out the species. Let's start with ... this one.""

""Ukrainian Ironbelly.""

""Good, Liv! What about this li'l beauty?""

A beat.

""Peruvian Vipertooth?""

""Exactly, Anna. And the one poking about Chuck's elbow?""

""That's a Swedish Short-Snout.""

""Right. Now, which species're native t' the British Isles?""

""Welsh Greens!""

Something noses Chuck's sleeve.

""Hebridean Blacks!""

Chuck peeks out at the Short-Snout, huffs a sigh, closes his eyes.

""That's right!""

It huffs back, clambers up Chuck's robe, tucks itself into the crook of his elbow.

""What family manages the Greenies?""

""Pritchard!""

""Exactly! Where's the Reserve for 'em?""

""Between the A5 and Llanfairfechan.""

""What's their favourite food?""

""Red deer.""

""And?""

Silence.

Chuck sighs, "Feral goat. Only reason the population's not outta control around the reserve."

""Right on!""

Chuck sniffs.

Something flutters in the vicinity of his ear.

""Uh, Hansen?"" whispers Aimee.

"Yea?"

""One of 'em's—""

"Leave it."

""O-okaaay ....""

The fluttering stops and something small and dense and warm buries itself in his hair.

""Who manages the Blackies?"" prompts Hagrid.

""The MacFustys,"" says Daisy

"The MacIvers," corrects Chuck.

"The book says—"

""You're right the book says MacFusty and they're the folks who answer to the Ministry 'bout 'em, but it's **actually** the MacIvers who work on the Reserve these days.""

Daisy challenges, ""Chuck, how'd you know that?""

"I've read all their books in the library an' they say so."

""You've read **all** the MacIver books?"" Hagrid sounds impressed.

Chuck shrugs—

Tiny claws dig into his back.

—holds very still as another dragon curls up on his nape, says, "Yea. I got bored."

""Are you thinkin' of going into dragonology?""

Chuck can **hear** the sparkles in Hagrid's eyes.

"Not really. Just bored."

""Ye might be a natural, Hansen.""

""Chuck Hansen: dragon whisperer,"" snickers Daisy.

He snorts—gently—says, "I'll think about it."

An angry hiss and snapping teeth.

""Anna, keep movin' how you're movin', but look somewhere else. You're making her nervous staring like that.""

She whimpers.

Chuck cracks an eye—

Anna's still got her eyes locked on the mini Hungarian Horntail.

—hums low, reassuring.

The Horntail squawks, hackles up, backs away from Anna until its tail bumps Chuck's forearm.

Chuck hums reassurance.

Horntail grumbles and keeps a sharp watch.

Chuck shifts a bit—careful not to disturb the perchers—gets more of himself between Horny at the rest of the class.

Horny rubs its cheek against his sleeve, closes its eyes.

Chuck lets his fall shut, too.

""You're a natural,"" breathes Hagrid.

Chuck sighs as Horny tries to worm its spiky self under his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo by [Christopher Walker](https://www.flickr.com/photos/soylentgreen23/) [[CC BY-NC-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/)] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/soylentgreen23/133715167/).
> 
> If Hagrid's still on campus in 2017 (and J. K. Rowling says he is in _Harry Potter and the Cursed Child_ ), my money's on him still in _sis_ ting on teaching Care of Magical Creatures and _still_ loving things that can hurt him.
> 
> Couldn't find any solid lore from JKR on the wheres and hows of the Welsh Dragon reservation, so I invented some that made sense to me. The area of this reserve the student describes coincides with the northeastern part of Wales' [Snowdonia National Park](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snowdonia). Red deer live throughout the park and feral goats have been spotted in this area.
> 
> [Llanfairfechan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Llanfairfechan) is a pretty little coastal town in northern Wales and '[Pritchard](http://surnames.behindthename.com/name/pritchard)' is a surname of Welsh origin.
> 
> JKR says [the MacFusty clan of Scotland takes care of concealing Hebridean Black dragons](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Hebridean_Black) from other-than-wizards. Since 'MacFusty's an invented name and there's no mention of them I can find in the Potterlore beyond the namedrop, I've felt free to substitute another family with a name extant among families in the Outer Hebrides to do the actual dirty work.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to thank Gothams_Only_Wolf for the perfection that is their Holiday Swap fic for me and this was the best way I could come up with. It came together in a single draft and that kinda quickly written and posted, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes and that it makes as much sense as it did in my head.


End file.
